Dimensional Rift
by Hikaru Irving
Summary: Upon trying to open the way to the Ginnungagap via the Otherworldly Gate, something goes wrong, and Emil is flung backward in time by two years, to the era where the worlds were still split, and Aster is alive.
1. Thesis

A/N: Uhm, this was a crack pairing (among many) thought up on a conversation on Deviantart ... and I was cheered (egged, ha ha) by my friend everything-anime. And TyLowell on the Tales oekaki board turned me into an Aster fangirl. Also, spoilers.

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Namco Bandai or the Tales studios, nor do I make a material profit from this work. It it purely fan made (crack) fun.

--

Part I: Thesis

--

The full moon shone radiantly in the dark nighttime sky, the sea of stars hidden by unusually thick cloud cover. Even the silver moonlight fell on the earth only in dappled droplets. The island was uninhabited, a mysterious place with centuries of legends and premonitions about it.

The ocean roared as its foamy waves crashed on the rocks, what could be called the shore of the island nothing more than a dangerous sheer cliff of jagged stones. The ship anchored off the rocky shore swayed in the sea's thrashing maw, but it would not sink.

Two men in white coats hiked up the shore, followed by a young woman dressed in like manner. The night was cold, freezing, even, and the salty winds whipped their clothes about. They had to raise their voices almost to the point of shouting to be heard over the roaring ocean waves.

"Martel's blood, it's cold," one of the men folded his arms tightly, teeth chattering as he tried to find reprieve from the weather. The other man was silent, but the woman turned, appearing quite oblivious to the cold. She hiked ahead of her companions, pointing to the horizon of the island.

"It's only a little farther. If our thesis on the dimensional boundary is correct, the gate to Sylvarant will be opened on the night of a full moon."

The shivering man shuddered, but this time it had nothing to do with the lack of heat. "But we won't actually go to Sylvarant, will we?" he asked, voice quavering with fright. "If what those Renegade men reported is true, then the declining world of Sylvarant is being ravaged by Desians this very moment!"

"This is necessary for the good of Tethe'alla," the other man, silent until now, spoke. "His Majesty the King ordered us to find out whether the declining world actually exists. Those Renegades could be lying. On the other hand, if the declining world does exist, then it means if their Chosen regenerates their world and seals the Desians, the Desians would again come to Tethe'alla, and our era of prosperity would end."

The woman shook her head, hands on her hips. "Our job is to prove that there is a gate to Sylvarant. If the King does wish for their Chosen to be assassinated in order to protect Tethe'alla, we won't be the ones to do it."

"Yes, of course you're right, let's go." The shivering man said. The team of researchers continued traversing the island. Soon enough the looming pillars of stone, carved in curling patterns, came within sight, easily towers on this isolated spit of land east of Altamira.

Sybak researchers who had gone to the village of the elves, Heimdall, reported that the elves themselves had legends of this Otherworldly Gate, legends that coincide with superstitions handed down in generations by the people of Altamira. Legends like those that surrounded the Otherworldly Gate existed for a reason, and the fact that elves believed the Gate indeed led to other worlds meant there was definitely some truth behind the "old wives' tale."

The team of scholars craned their necks to better look at the stone pillars arranged in a triangular fashion, the patterns engraved on the columns a complete mystery. The woman, however, was looking at the sky worriedly.

"Will all this cloud cover prevent the Gate from opening? We spent a lot of resources to come here this month's full moon ..."

"I dunno," one of the men said. "This just looks like some heathen structure to me. Maybe it's the work of those druids, those descendants of elves who left their village."

The other man shook his head, studying the glyphs carved on the stone pillars. "No, I've lived in Heimdall for two years. This kind of magic circle ... it's an extremely archaic kind, the kind only the elder elf tribe originally from the Great Motherland of Derris-Kharlan used." He walked around the pillar, touching the grooves. "This pattern ... is reminiscent of magic circles that manipulated the fabric of time and space to an extremely small extent."

"You mean like spells such as Negative Gate, Gravity Well, and Black Hole?"

"Yes. It looks like this could very well be the Gate to the legendary Sylvarant."

"The clouds are moving," The woman said suddenly, "the full moon will be completely visible to the Gate! Move out of the way!" At her demand the two men scurried away a good long distance from the Gate. The original foundation of stone the Gate had stood upon was buried under the earth by now, and they had no way of knowing the radius of the Gate's magic circle if and when it opened.

After the clouds moved, the silvery blue light bathed the three pillars in unadulterated moonlight, and when the moon's radiance fell on the glyphs carved in stone, the Otherworldly Gate shuddered and began to glow. At first the magic circle's light was like that of the moon, then it changed--from silvery blue to red gold, and then with a great shake of the earth the light warped. The red gold faded, replaced by an ebon color, like a negative illumination. A dark light.

"Is that ... the gate to Sylvarant?" the woman murmured.

"Look, there's a shadow!" One of the men pointed. "Has someone come through the Gate?"

The other man shrugged, looking skeptical. "That shouldn't be possible unless there's a like Otherworldly Gate in Sylvarant, but ..."

With a flash of light the shuddering of the earth stopped, and the glowing of the magic circle inscribed on the stone pillars faded. The dark of night pressed against their eyes, but the woman staggered forward, a small frown on her face.

"It's a person ..."

There were collective gasps. The three researchers rushed to the Gate, now inactive with clouds cloaking the full moon. The men knelt, almost afraid to touch the unconscious person on the ground. Almost. They turned the person to face upward--a young man. The woman's blood ran cold.

"What ... ? You?"

One of the men sucked breath between his teeth. "It's impossible. He should still be in the city."

"And why's he dressed like this?" The other man, the one bothered by the cold, asked. He eyed the broadsword belted to the unconscious young man's waist. "I've never seen him hold a sword, much less actually use one."

"This clothing ..." The man who had stayed in Heimdall eyed the young man's apparel. "It reminds me of elvish garb, but it still looks different."

"Do you think he was investigating the Gate for the elves?"

"No, that can't be." The woman said. She folded her arms, staring at the young man they found. "We'll take him back to Sybak, as proof of the existence of the Otherworldly Gate's power, and the declining world of Sylvarant."

One of the men met her eyes. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. If we take him to Sybak, we'll know for sure."

--

Of the three great cities of Tethe'alla--the Imperial City, Meltokio, the University Town, Sybak, and the Seaside Paradise, Altamira--the Lezareno Company's resort city on the island, Altamira, was often hailed as Tethe'alla's pride and joy, second only to Meltokio, the capital and seat of the royal family. The Company controlled much of the commerce of Tethe'alla's sea trade routes, and tourists were abound every single day of the year to have a taste of the infamous amusement park, the world's greatest investment in machinery thus far.

A rather unfair assessment, Aster would think. Of the most important cities, he felt that the University Town, Sybak, was undermined in value. The most prestigious private schools and colleges were aggregated here in Sybak, it was here that the world's best and brightest resided, whose work continued to benefit Tethe'alla. It was thanks to the professors in this city whose degrees in real world mathematics and civil engineering made Altamira's amusement park possible.

But the best accomplishments of Sybak so far were the reviving of the summoning arts carried out in the Elemental Laboratory branch in Meltokio, the creation of a manmade summon spirit in the selfsame laboratory, and of course, the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge.

Though the technology of Exspheres was brought over by the Renegades, it had been researchers from Sybak who first thought of attaching Exspheres to machines instead of people. It was safer than putting them on people, and more efficient. The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge was operated by an estimated total of 10,000 Exspheres.

Thanks to funding from both the royal family and Tethe'alla's Mana Lineage, the scholars of the Sybak Imperial Research Academy were now studying the Chosen's Cruxis Crystal, something the Church of Martel staunchly opposed. With this newest breakthrough, there would be nothing the researchers of Sybak couldn't accomplish.

Of course Aster was inclined to be a little biased toward Sybak. He lived in Sybak, working for the Imperial Research Academy for seven years now, from the tenderly young age of nine. He every day witnessed the intellectual miracles that forever changed the face of Tethe'alla, and continued the change the world still.

Not to say that these discoveries came quickly or easily. For a number of years Aster had been studying the relation between mana and monsters. But there hadn't been any monsters in Tethe'alla, as the world was flourishing, so he had settled for summon spirit research. But now things were different.

"Monsters really have appeared in Tethe'alla?" Aster asked, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. His raised voice earned glares from other researchers in the library, and he smiled apologetically. Lowering his voice, he addressed the other researcher. "Are you sure of this?"

"Yes," came the whisper, "merchants and travelers all report monster sightings. Director Schneider sent multiple teams to verify this already. Hadn't you hit a wall with your mana-monster research?"

"Yeah," Aster replied quietly. He leaned on the table, brow knit together with thought. "That's because all I had to work with were fossils and remains of monsters from the last time Tethe'alla was in decline." Studying the remains themselves wasn't always enough, either, there had been much searching for accounts left over from the last regeneration, even talking with elves or half-elves who were alive during that time.

Aster was lost in thought. "Hmm. I can work with live monsters now ... but I'm not doing badly in my summon spirit research, either."

"Oh, yeah. Didn't you study that manmade summon spirit at the Elemental Laboratory a couple of years ago?"

Aster nodded. "Yeah. But the results weren't anything new or unexpected--as they'd always thought, summon spirits are just sentient concentrations of mana. Corrine didn't have any elemental affiliation because the mana that composed him was taken in equal parts."

"Well," the other researcher said thoughtfully, "Director Schneider sent survey teams to collect live monsters. They should be back by now. Why don't you see the Director to find out whether or not another research team was assigned to study the live monsters?"

"That's not a bad idea." Aster ceded.

He left the library, emerged into Sybak's plaza. The normally congested cobblestone streets were empty, devoid of life but for the single group of white-coated scientists who were bringing into the city large cages mounted on wheels. Instantly Aster knew this must be one of the survey teams the Director had sent to collect monster samples.

The cages were lined up before the library, the placards on the front reading the species name, the genus, and where the specimen had come from. Aster knew he should go see the Director immediately, but his intellectual curiosity won him over, and he strode to the line of monster's cages.

In the first cage, he actually thought the monster within might have been dead. It was a plant monster, a dark little thing with gnarled bark, long woody tentacles coiled about its body. The placard said this specimen was collected from the Gaoracchia Woods just north of Sybak. Aster recalled that those woods had a thick canopy, and thus sunlight hardly penetrated to the floor below.

Aster looked up. A clear blue sky, hardly a cloud in sight to dim the impossibly bright beacon that was the sun. Perhaps the plant monster didn't like sunlight. But that was kind of backwards, wasn't it? Didn't plants photosynthesize to make food for themselves? But maybe this monster wasn't an actual plant--maybe it just looked like a plant as a form of camouflage.

Aster's examining of the monster was interrupted by the survey team.

"We have to move these to the labs within. The Director will assemble a research team later."

Aster nodded, moved aside. "Of course, don't let me keep you." The cages started rolling again, flanked by the scientists of the monster survey team. He began to follow them to the Imperial Research Academy--he had to ask the Director if he wanted to study those monsters.

As he neared the entrance of the main building--the survey team went around to the back for the garages for the monsters--a young woman in a white lab coat rushed out, looking quite flustered, as if she had been running a marathon. She may well have been, with her face flushed and her usually neat blonde hair mussed out of place, unrestrained by her loosely tied purple ribbon.

"Rilena?" Aster asked, brow quirked. "What's wrong? Did something happen on your field study?" Rilena had chatted nonstop about her upcoming field study to the Otherworldly Gate, how it was an important mission granted from the King of Tethe'alla himself. Aster had envied her to some extent, but her area of research wasn't his field of expertise.

Rilena doubled over to catch her breath, panting rapidly. When she had started breathing properly again, she stood up straight, her hazel eyes locked with Aster's bright emerald green.

"There you are! Yes, something did happen. The Otherworldly Gate opened on the night of the full moon, just as the legends from the elves and Altamira said it would--and we found someone unconscious there."

Aster's eyes went wide, his eyebrows shooting straight up to disappear in his hairline. "From Sylvarant?"

Rilena nodded. "Yes, we think so. But that's not the only thing ..." She dropped her voice to a whisper, and Aster had to lean closer to her to hear what she had to say. His jaw dropped, and his heart skipped a few beats. His mouth went dry, his throat hitched.

"What do you mean _he looks just like me?"_


	2. Reflection

--

Part II: Reflection

--

"Why did you put him in the basement?"

"I'm sorry, it was the only safe place we could keep him."

"I see."

The metal door was heavy, Aster had to work slowly to open it. The lab within was dark, illuminated softly by lanterns and lamps attached to the ceiling and walls. The entire room was made of stone. It was cold. Aster cautiously walked inside the lab, Rilena electing to stay on the threshold.

The two half-elves working in this lab were standing at the table in the middle of the room. One was a tall man with long red hair, the other a woman with leaf green hair wound up in a bun at the back of her head. Both wore eyeglasses.

"Richter," Aster said, gaining their attention. "Kate. What's his status?"

Richter arched a brow, shrugging. "He really looks identical to you, for one. Come look." He moved aside so his friend could see. Aster approached the table and had to suppress a gasp. Lying strapped to the table, unconscious, was a young man. Even unconscious he looked just like Aster.

"This ... is a rare experience. He's been asleep like this the whole time?"

Kate folded her arms, giving Aster a skeptical look. "Why do you think he's been strapped to this table? He was terrified when he saw Richter and thrashed around quite a bit. Once we restrained him, I injected him with a tranquilizer."

Aster knit his brow together, confused. "He was scared of Richter?"

"Well," the red-haired half-elf began, "it may have to do with the fact I was trying to take a blood sample." He held up the empty syringe, the sharp needle point glinting in the dim light ominously. He placed the tool on the counter. "To get a proper blood sample now, Kate's tranquilizer will have to wear off."

Aster laughed, smiling broadly. "If I saw you with a needle aimed at me, I'd be scared, too."

"Aster," Richter said flatly, but the corners of his mouth were teased upward.

The human researcher's eyes wandered, coming to rest on a small pile of objects at the foot of the table. He quirked a brow.

"These are his belongings?"

"Yes."

Without hesitation Aster kneeled, searching through the items. There was a broadsword, complete with its leather scabbard, a small collection of armor, bandanas, and gauntlets along with multiple pouches of accessories, gels, herbs, bottles, and synthesis materials. Among the equipment, he picked up a strange contraption that fit on the hand, a small switch triggered the rotation of the two curved metal blades.

"What's this? I've never seen a weapon like this." Aster stood, the spinning blades fitted on his right hand. Experimentally he waved his arm through the air, slowly, then quickly. The blades rotated, making a swift spinning sound. It had some weight, as it was a weapon, but it was light, as if this weapon were forged for someone small and lacking the strength for weapons like swords or spears. Like children, women, or simply people who didn't fight regularly.

Richter watched as Aster continued moving his arm in wide arcs, then slashing and turning as he swung. He rested his hand on the hilt of his own sword.

"Hey, not bad. Looks like you found a weapon that works for you, Aster."

Aster stopped, slightly amused by Richter's halfhearted grin. "Maybe. Something like this is plenty dangerous; one needs no actual force. The speed of the rotating blades does all the work, especially if they're sharp and spinning quickly." Clothing and armor would be ripped, warped and dented. Flesh would be ripped to shreds if the blades were jagged, sliced away cleanly if they were smooth.

Aster pressed the small switch on the dual spinner--the blades locked in place, one stacked atop the other. He dropped his gaze to the plethora of items by the table.

"But look at all this. He must have been on the road for a long time to need so many medical supplies. He's got some pretty rare accessories, too--I mean, mana symbols and topaz rings? How did he afford all that?" Aster shot a glance at Richter. "Did he have any Gald on him?"

Richter smirked, pushing his slipping glasses into place. "No less than ..." here he paused, his eyes going upward, as if in thought. He smiled. "521,458."

Aster's jaw dropped, his lax fingers almost lost the spinner as well. "Surely you jest."

Richter shook his head. "Cold, hard cash."

"Is he of the Meltokio nobility?" It was the only explanation that easily came to mind.

"Rilena found him at the Otherworldly Gate, right? Doesn't that mean he's from Sylvarant?"

"But why," Kate interjected, "would Sylvarant have the same currency as we do? If he came through the Gate from Sylvarant, wouldn't he have originally been from Tethe'alla and come back?"

Rilena stepped over the threshold, though she kept a respectful distance from the two half-elves. She flushed when Aster frowned at her. It embarrassed her to be around half-elves at the same time as Aster was--Aster never was bothered by half-elves, instead he actively collaborated with them on his projects. Rilena meanwhile couldn't give up on her fear of half-elves just yet.

"The only way to know for sure is to ask him when he wakes up."

"When will the tranquilizer wear off?" Aster asked Kate. The woman half-elf cupped her chin thoughtfully.

"It was a mildly potent dose, since he was thrashing so violently. You'd think Richter was trying to kill him--"

"Oh yes, Kate, I was going to kill him with _a needle."_

"But he should wake up within the next five or six hours."

"That long, huh." Aster lifted his hand, studying the spinner's curved blades. "Well, I'm sure I'll be busy studying the origin of this thing. Weapons like this aren't exactly common."

"Mizuho's information network would be useful for that." Rilena said. "If we could somehow contact them ..."

"Our only contact would be Sheena, the Mizuho woman who learned the summoning arts all those years ago." Aster said. "But there's no way we can reach her. Besides, I'm sure the academic resources in the library will be more than enough. We even have ancient elvish and angelic literature. There has to be something I can use."

"Even if you can't find out the origin of that kind of weapon," Richter said abruptly, "that spinner seems to work for you. Why don't you take some time to train with it? I'd like to see how a style with that weapon would hold up against my sword and axe."

Jade and emerald eyes locked, bright with that competitive glint, almost throwing sparks. But not in a bitter way. It was more like a brotherly rivalry--those two spent enough time together to count for brothers, though the fact Richter was a half-elf put off most people.

But Aster wasn't most people.

"What a marvelous idea." Aster grinned toothily, hefting the spinner on his hand. "I think I will." He looked to his living mirror of flesh lying unconscious on the strapped table. "You'll monitor his condition, right?"

"Of course." Kate answered.

Aster nodded, emitting a thank you before he and Rilena took their leave, closing the heavy metal door behind them. The latch clicked into place with an echo of finality that used to frighten the two half-elves to the core. Not anymore.

Richter picked up the empty syringe; it was still clean. He turned to Kate. "We can't accurately test for disease with that tranquilizer still in his system, but we can at least verify whether he's human or otherwise."

"Yes, we could." Kate said slowly. She looked down at the unconscious young man. "It's the only way to find out, really. His aura is rather strange. I can't tell what he is."

"Very good." Richter approached the table, rolling down one of the young man's gloves. Turning the arm upward, he carefully planted the needle in a vein, and slowly drew a certain amount of blood. Kate took a roll of gauze to bandage the wound when Richter was done.

The redhead moved the blood sample to the equipment lined up against the wall. With care he began the process of identifying the genetic data within the blood cells.

Kate was just pinning the gauze bandage on the young man's arm when Richter stifled a gasp. She turned to look at him, brow quirked. "What is it? What did you find?"

"This is ... strange beyond measure. His genetic data says he's human ... but he has a vast concentration of molecular mana in his bloodstream."

"Like a half-elf?"

"Not exactly ... If I didn't know better, I'd say at least his blood cells have mana matter as its base material. As if he were built of mana. But more than that ... he and Aster have the same genetic makeup."

Kate's jaw dropped, her eyes went wide in disbelief. "How did you test that so quickly?"

"Everyone has had their genetic information entered into the Sybak database as part of the genome project started all those decades ago. I was curious, so I ran some of his data through the machine. It's a perfect match, down to the last gene."

"But Aster ..."

"Has no twin brother, at least that we're aware of." Richter folded his arms, thinking. He turned to Kate, looking her in the eye. "Built of mana, Aster's genetic makeup ... is it possible ...?"

"What are you driving at?"

"Two of the most brilliant minds of Sybak were expelled from the Imperial Research Academy a number of years ago. They had been collaborating on making living copies of people using mana and magitechnology. Drs. Balfour and Mordio."

"Dr. Mordio ... had been studying those relics of the Ancient War, blastia?"

"And Dr. Balfour called his theory 'fomicry.' Their research involved problems both technical and ethical, so they were expelled. Though applying fomicry to nonliving things and blastia for the war machine is still carried out."

"But we can't be sure, can we?"

"We'll need to report this to the Director, to have him create an investigation. If he is the product of fomicry, it's an illegal doing and those responsible will have to be punished."

--

Looking through the catalogues of known weaponry dated from the Ancient War to present time, Aster sat on his bed, deeply absorbed in what he read. So far the only weapon he found that could be even close to the dual spinner he now possessed was the giant shuriken, the Mizuho throwing star. There were other kinds of shuriken, according to the catalogue (Mizuho was very secretive, the only things outsiders knew about their ways was what they deigned to share), and one such shuriken, dubbed the 'windmill shuriken,' had rotating blades, like the spinner.

Perhaps the spinner was a forger's improvisation of something like the windmill shuriken that was easier to carry, easier to fight with, and could be made so that even women and children could use it with relative ease. A very good self-defense weapon that could rise to the status of offensive weapon very quickly if put to the right use.

Aster looked back at the spinner which lay on his desk. He stood, walked over to his desk, picked up the spinner, equipped it and unlocked the blades. Once again he experimentally moved with it as if he were attacking something or defending. The blades spun, creating a small vortex of air.

"Speed and agility would work best for this weapon." He hefted his right arm, the one he had the spinner equipped on. "But with just one hand ... I could try two spinners, one for each hand ..." He mulled it over. It could be done, and altogether more effective and deadly. He shook his head. "If I'm going to do that, I'd better at least get used to fighting with the one I do have."

Richter's suggestion of using the spinner as his weapon of choice, training with it, and sparring with Richter every so often floated in his mind. He didn't see why not. He was already physically fit and quick on his feet. This kind of weapon really did seem to work for him.

Richter had tried to get Aster into martial arts before ("Every time you travel, you need to be able to protect yourself!"), with little success. Pole arms were too heavy, he didn't like axes ("I feel like a crazy serial killer holding one of these!"), and he refused to use a sword to preserve his own pride more than anything else--Richter could easily wipe the floor with him in swordsmanship. Against Richter, the only thing he had going for him was his being faster than the redhead.

And with this weapon ... he could very well best Richter, if he learned to use it well enough. He certainly knew Richter's fighting style well enough, he had watched him train numerous times. Aster had to make an effort to wipe the ridiculous grin off his face. He locked the spinner's blades and exited his room.

--

His vision was a blurry haze. The chamber was dark, soft lights illuminating bits and parts of the room. The walls were of stone, and it was cold. He blinked, and his swimming field of sight slowly became sharper, focused. He groaned, sitting upright. He was still atop that restraining table, but no longer was he strapped to it. He winced, his head pounding. Halfheartedly he hoped that what happened was a dream, but the gauze bandage on his otherwise bare forearm suggested otherwise.

"You're awake."

He jolted in place, his mouth dry, throat hitched. He jumped off the table, instinctively reaching for his sword--only to find it was no longer belted to his back. The tall man took a step, lifted a broadsword contained within its leather scabbard.

"Calm down. I hope you'll understand that I can't return this to you if you still insist on slicing me open."

He grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides, eyes narrowed. "You were more than eager to do the same for me, why shouldn't I slice you open?"

The red-haired half-elf man--Richter--quirked a brow, looking quite confused.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're going on about."

He pointed an accusing finger, spitting like acid, "Don't play dumb!" He hesitated, looking about the room, the lab. "Why are we in Sybak? I thought you left the Imperial Research Academy!"

Richter stared long and hard at the young man that had been found at the Otherworldly Gate, the young man who was identical to Aster. Slowly, he shook his head. "No ... it's like they'd let me leave, anyway. But you've been here before?"

The young man knit his brow, bewildered. "Yes ... has the lightning stopped? We hatched Tonitrus's core ..."

"Lightning? There haven't been any lightning storms lately, not since last winter."

"He's awake now?"

Richter turned, nodding at the bespectacled woman with green hair. "Yes. He's saying some strange things, Kate."

Kate walked right up to the young man, studying him. A little uncomfortable, he stepped back. "Maybe he's still being affected by the tranquilizer, or he's in shock. What's your name? I'm Kate, and that's Richter. We're half-elves of the Imperial Research Academy."

The young man hesitated, frowning. He appeared to be thinking things over. Finally, he said in a small voice, "My name ... is Emil. Emil Castagnier."

"Well, Emil." Richter walked over to a locker by the wall, opened it, deposited Emil's broadsword, and locked it along with the rest of the young man's belongings. The blond began to protest, but Richter cut him off. "If you're on your best behavior, then we can return your things to you. Until the investigation is complete, you are not to leave Sybak."

"No!" Emil shouted. "I can't stay here ... I don't do well in stone walls!"

Richter turned, staring at Emil unblinkingly, almost owlishly. "I don't know why you're so jumpy, but you can leave this lab. However, one of our researchers will have to accompany you at all times. We should receive word from the Director which one, but I have a feeling I know who it'll be ..."

For time immemorial there was a suffocating silence, the two half-elves studying Emil, who looked for all the world as if he were put in a cage. That wild, panicked look in his eyes made him seem like a cornered animal.

"Anyway," Kate said, "you shouldn't leave until that researcher comes back for you. Meanwhile, I have things I'd like to ask you: are you from the declining world of Sylvarant?"

Emil quirked a brow. He shrugged. "I ... guess you could say that."

"You 'guess' ?" Richter asked incredulously. "You don't know for sure?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," Emil turned away, silently fuming.

Richter and Kate exchanged glances. If Emil didn't want to talk, it wasn't as if they could force him into talking. They weren't interrogating a prisoner, for Martel's sake. Besides, it appeared to them that Emil was still experiencing some form of shock trauma, since he had come from the dimensional fissure between the worlds via the Otherworldly Gate.

Then again, if he really had come from the declining world of Sylvarant, it was understandable if he didn't want to talk about that, either. Sylvarant was being ravaged by the Desians this very moment. They didn't have any clear idea of what the Desians actually did, other than the information the Renegades shared. Apparently the Desians captured humans and used them to cultivate Exspheres in twisted experiments.

If Emil had lived in a village where the Desians had regularly killed and pillaged, then this kind of reluctant behavior was to be expected. Richter's eyes went wide at a sudden thought. Did Emil think Richter was trying to kill him because he was a half-elf, as Desians were? He shook his head. Emil had said he had been to Sybak. He uttered the town's name when to the extent of Richter's knowledge, no one had told him.

Interesting.

"There's nothing more I can tell you, Emil," Richter finally said with a sigh. "Except to be patient."


	3. The Hands of Time

--

Part III: The Hands of Time

--

To say Emil was scared was an understatement. He was utterly terrified, on the verge of uncontrollable panic. The two half-elves locked with him in the lab, one of them none other than Richter, were bombarding him with questions, about the Otherworldly Gate, about Sylvarant, whether or not he was originally from Tethe'alla for the Gald he carried and his knowledge of Sybak.

Emil simply couldn't believe that Richter of all people were asking Emil these things. Richter already knew what the Otherworldly Gate was, Richter already knew who Emil was and where he was from, Richter already knew pretty much everything there was to know of these things. So why did Richter keep on asking these questions? For that matter, why was Richter even here? He should be waiting for Emil at the deepest part of the Ginnungagap, summoning even more demons for Goddess Martel knew what.

A sudden thought struck Emil. When the barrage of questions had stopped, Emil asked tentatively, "Where's Aqua?"

Richter blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Aqua! The Centurion! The one who's always with you!"

Richter and Kate exchanged confused glances. The woman half-elf asked, "What is a Centurion? I've never heard of them."

"Centurion ..." Richter murmured thoughtfully. "In the Ancient War, a centurion was a commander in charge of a unit of soldiers, a century, comprised of a hundred men. These centurions tended to be half-elves for their magical artes. However, I know no one named Aqua, half-elf, human, or otherwise."

But Emil wasn't listening. He was talking to himself, almost like a madman. "If Aqua's not here ... why ... Tenebrae!" He called to the empty air. When nothing but his own echoing answered, he shouted again, "Tenebrae! Show yourself! Tenebrae!"

"Tenebrae, the old elvish word for 'darkness' ?" Richter asked. Rilena's team's suggestion of Emil having been investigating the Otherworldly Gate for the elves seemed more plausible by the minute. Though of course the young man's behavior merited more questions than answers. Had this young man made a pact with a summon spirit?

"Do you mean Shadow, the Summon Spirit of Darkness?"

"No!" Emil snapped crossly. "I mean Centurion Tenebrae!" He gave a frustrated sigh. "You know what, Richter, you're really getting on my nerves. First you warped the magic circle at the Otherworldly Gate and lock me up in here, next you're playing these sick, twisted mind games with me! You're worse than Alice!"

Richter gave a quizzical tilt of the head. "Ought I to know who this Alice is?" He was known for his patience, but this--boy!--who was just like Aster (if only by way of looks, so far the personality hadn't matched up very well) was for all intents and purposes spitting venom in his face.

"What do you mean the magic circle at the Otherworldly Gate was warped?" Kate interjected. "And why are you accusing Richter? He can't ever leave here, how could he have tampered with the Gate?"

Emil glared at the two half-elves, clearly impatient and angry. Growling low in his throat, he retorted, "Hell if I know! He," Emil jabbed a finger at Richter, "is the one trying to summon Niflheim into this world!"

A stunned silence. Something in Emil's voice had changed, and just his voice--Aster's bright emerald eyes had darkened, from the color of leaves on a young springtime tree to red as blood. Richter clenched his fists.

"Niflheim? I have never heard anything more absurd in my life." He said coldly. "The existence of the demonic realm is completely hypothetical, anyway."

Emil slammed a fist on the wall, scowling at Richter. "First you filthy half-elves destroy my tree, now you're blatantly lying about your transgression to the Ginnungagap! You _parasites_ are despicable!"

"Filthy half-elves." Richter repeated tunelessly. "I can't help it if that's what I am."

"Still, I'm afraid you're not making much sense." Kate said, brow knit with confusion. "Ginnungagap? I've never heard of this, either."

"Leave him be, Kate, you're wasting your time." Richter said, shrugging. "He's obviously a nut case."

"What?" Emil said scathingly. He vaulted across the chamber, straight for Richter, shouting, "I dare you to say that to my face, half-elf!"

Richter belatedly turned to fend off the attack, but Emil ducked the swing, grabbed the hilt of Richter's sword, yanked it out of its scabbard and retreated to a safe distance. Kate shrieked, backing away while Richter openly cursed. Emil now had a weapon. Richter drew his axe, albeit reluctantly.

"Carry on like this," Richter said slowly, "And I can't guarantee you'll even get to leave this lab." He had to stop this before it got out of control. The researcher the Director sent hadn't even arrived yet to take this unstable boy off his hands. Kate may be right--perhaps the boy simply was in a state of shock from the strains of jumping the dimensional fissure between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla.

Emil scoffed, spreading his feet apart, swinging the red and black sword behind him. "It's simple. I'll break the damn door down!" He started to concentrate, the blade beginning to glow an ethereal light. The sense of powerful mana gathering was overwhelming to the two half-elves who were especially sensitive to mana.

"If that attack hits," Kate screeched, "the whole lab will be destroyed!"

Richter rushed to Emil, intending to interrupt the spell--if that was what it could be called--as he raised his axe. He swung down full force, the light of the mana Emil was amassing almost blinding. Sparks threw off the edge of the axe as it collided with steel. Richter blinked.

"What?"

Grinning under the black axe bordered in red was none other than Aster, blocking his best friend's attack with the dual spinner he had pilfered from Emil's belongings earlier. Grunting from the effort of holding back Richter's strength, Aster said,

"I don't know what's going on, I only just got here, but I can't allow you two to slice each other to ribbons. It'd reflect badly on not only our teams, but Rilena's as well as hers was the one to bring him here."

Richter smirked, lowering his weapon. "Not bad. You're getting good with that spinner."

Behind Aster, the accumulating mana had stopped, the bright light coming from Richter's sword guttered and died, leaving the lab once again dim as it had been. Emil slowly stood, dropping the sword from his numb fingers. It clattered loudly on the flagstone floor as Emil grabbed Aster by the coat, shouting,

"Why are you here?! Does that mean Richter succeeded in summoning Niflheim?"

"Hey!" Richter slashed at Emil, only to be thwarted by Aster once more. The axe's edge was caught between the rotating blades of the spinner.

"Don't hurt him," Aster said quite calmly, looking for all the world like an emotionally unstable person did not have him by the lapels or was lifting him off the ground. Indeed, the fact his feet were separated from the ground by a full two inches didn't appear to bother him one bit.

"Please, Emil," Kate pleaded from her side of the room, almost in tears, "release Aster. He's the one who's supposed to look after you while you're here in Sybak."

"While I'm here in Sybak," Emil echoed, gritting his teeth to the point of generating sparks. "You mean while I'm imprisoned here in Sybak. I wouldn't be surprised if Richter's been working toward this all along."

"Please!" Kate persisted. "Richter's not that kind of person!"

Abruptly Emil released Aster, staggering backward, holding his head as if he had a particularly painful headache. Aster landed on his feet, prepared to defend himself if Emil were to lash out again. Richter knelt, reclaiming his fallen sword.

"Richter ... Richter's not that kind of person ... that's right." Emil murmured. He slowly stood, eyes squeezed shut. Louder, he said, "Richter's not that kind of person!" When he opened his eyes, no longer were they red. Once again they mirrored Aster's bright green ones.

Sighing with relief, Aster locked the blades on his spinner, grinning toothily. He held out a hand for Emil to shake. "Hello, I'm Aster, and I see you've already acquainted with Kate and Richter." Emil stared at Aster's hand. Tentatively he reached out, and took it.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Emil said quietly, a small blush on his face. "I had ... never intended for that sort of thing to happen."

"It's quite all right." Aster replied, never missing a beat. "Seeing how you probably came through the dimensional fissure between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, it's understandable if you're disoriented."

"Disoriented?" Richter quirked a brow, arms folded. "This guy attacked you and nearly destroyed the entire lab, and you call that _disoriented?"_ He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "You never cease to amaze me, Aster."

"Aster ..." Emil echoed. He stared into the scientist's eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. Except this wasn't a mirror of glass, it was a mirror of flesh. "If you're here, then ... but I ..." He shook his head, furrowing his brow. "Wait. You said I came through the dimensional fissure between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. What does that mean?"

"Our two worlds," Richter began suddenly, "of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla exist on shifted dimensions. When one world weakens, the mana from that world flows to the other. As a result, one world is always flourishing, and the other waning, like an hourglass." He pushed his slipping glasses into place. "The Chosen's journey of world regeneration is actually the process of reversing the mana flow, using the seals each summon spirit is enshrined at."

"Vying for the supply of mana ..." Emil murmured. He gasped, covering his mouth in horror. "So, right now, I'm ..."

"In Tethe'alla, yes." Richter finished. "The flourishing world. You were found at the Otherworldly Gate on the night of a full moon, when the Gate leading to the legendary Sylvarant would open. That's why we were asking you all those questions."

Aster clapped his hands together in an effort to brighten the already dim mood. "All right, then Emil, you'll have to come with me for now. I'll get you settled in." Humming a cheery tune to himself, the prodigal scientist left the basement laboratory. Emil dragged his feet, unsure of whether to follow. He was staring at Richter.

"Uhm, Richter?" He said shyly.

"What is it?" His response was gruff--understandable, since just moments ago he and Emil were locked in battle.

"I'm sorry!"

Stunned, Richter turned, confused. "For what?"

"For everything."

With that, Emil hurried after Aster, the heavy door closing with a hammering note of finality. Richter tilted his head to one side, bewildered.

"What did he mean, he was sorry for everything?"

--

This was an extremely weird and surreal experience, to be walking around with who could very well be his identical twin. Aster led Emil through the halls of the University Town of Sybak confidently, flashing an undying cheery smile whenever the other researchers and students gave them odd looks and actually asked if he had kept his twin brother a secret from the rest of the university. Undaunted (and probably undisturbed), Aster led Emil upstairs, the upper levels where the scientist's dorms were located.

"You'll be rooming with me," Aster said as he unlocked the door, "Since Director Schneider assigned me to watch over you while you're here. If you really are from Sylvarant, you can't travel Tethe'alla without the King's explicit permission." Here he gave an apologetic look, though it was never something he would vocally apologize for. The welfare of his world was nothing to be ashamed of protecting by whatever means available.

The dorm was bigger than Emil had expected. The walls were lined with heavy bookshelves, all of which were bowed under the great weight of many books, some hardcover and leather bound, others thin and paperback. There was a desk with a cushioned swivel chair, a stack of paper with ink bottles and quill pens scattered on the desktop. There were two beds, both of which were kept neat and clean.

Aster waved his hand as Emil walked in. "Well, what do you think?" Emil walked by the desk, eyes wandering over the bookshelves and their burdens. He stared at the title of a particularly thick hardcover volume.

"It's certainly ... impressive. I've never studied much, that I can remember, anyway."

Aster sat on his bed, arms folded. He looked slightly miffed. "I'd be rooming with Richter if I could. We collaborate on a lot of our research together, so it'd be easier to work. But thanks to this stupid caste system, all the half-elves are locked up in the basement laboratories." He heaved a deep sigh. "It's not fair. You'd think we'd value them for their knowledge, but instead we imprison them."

Emil frowned, looking at Aster. "The Desians who ravage the declining world are half-elves. So it's natural that the flourishing world would treat half-elves this way."

"But not all half-elves are Desians." Aster protested. "And there are bad humans, just as there are good half-elves. Good half-elves like Kate and Richter."

"Richter ... is a good person." Emil agreed. He dropped his gaze to the floor, frowning. "But even so, he tried to ..."

"Do you have something against Richter?"

Emil snapped his gaze up, his eyes meeting Aster's. Aster's cheery demeanor was gone, replaced by something altogether more serious. Emil hesitated, thinking over his words. Finally, he spoke.

"No. I trusted and looked up to him for a long time. He helped to make me into the person I am now."

Aster quirked a brow. "Didn't you two only just meet? Richter didn't seem to know you."

Emil started, jolting in place, as if struck by lightning. "Oh, right. He wouldn't." Inwardly, he hoped it would stay that way. He remembered Richter telling him outside Meltokio's gate that they were fated enemies, destined to oppose one another from the moment Emil was born. A sudden thought struck him.

"Hey, Aster? What year is it?"

"Ah, yes, you did come through the Otherworldly Gate and all. It's the year AM 4016, four thousand sixteen years since Mithos the Hero made the pact with the Goddess Martel."

Emil's eyes went wide. AM 4016. That meant-- "Aster, what year were you born?"

"Hmm? 4000. Why do you ask?"

Aster was sixteen years old. Sixteen years old.

_If Aster were alive today, he'd be eighteen years old._

_It's his wound from two years ago!_

_Two years ago the journey of world regeneration caused the two worlds to become one._

"Emil?"

Emil caught himself. He shook his head, looking away from Aster, who still sat on his bed, wearing a bewildered expression.

"I'm sorry, it's nothing."


	4. Jus Sanguinius

A/N: Yeah ... I'm not even going to try justifying posting so many multi-chaptered stories when I still have others to finish ... But the only thing I can ask of my dear readers is to trust me.

Also, warnings: there will be eventual shonen-ai with implied yaoi later on. If anybody has a problem with that sort of thing, I apologize and request that you read no further.

--

Part IV: Jus Sanguinius

--

It had been late afternoon when Aster had brought Emil to his dormitory, and as Emil had only just awakened, the researcher thought better of performing any sort of examination or study. Though Director Schneider had assigned Aster to watch over Emil, the jury was still undecided as to make a possible Sylvaranti a test subject.

Instead, Aster only asked Emil a few questions about himself, cooked a small dinner (beef stew with rice) and promptly went to bed. He was slumbering quite peacefully, like a child.

Sitting on the other bed by the window, in the pool of silvery moonlight, Emil leaned against the wall, unable to sleep. He stared at his living mirror across the room, brow knit with a frown, almost a cringe. A voice echoed deep within his mind.

_What's the matter? Can't sleep?_

Emil heaved a long-suffering sigh, pulling his knees closer to his body, arms wrapped around his legs.

" ... No." He said softly, it was barely audible. "Not like we need to sleep, anyway."

_Why did you stop me back there?_ The inner voice demanded scathingly. _You better than anyone know what that filthy half-elf is trying to do!_

He rested his chin atop his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. "I ... don't think that quite applies anymore."

_What the hell is that supposed to mean? He would have killed you a thousand different ways before your body hit the ground!_

"Don't you remember what they said? The two worlds of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla exist on shifted dimensions." A stubborn pause. "And the date. AM 4016. We've gone back in time by two years." He stared at Aster, gritting his teeth together. Two years from now ... he would ... he would ...

_Hmph. Could be part of some elaborate scheme to make us think that._

"But how do you explain Aster, then?"

_Easy. That bastard destroyed the Ginnungagap and merged the world with Niflheim to bring him back to life!_

"I can't agree with you. Besides ..."

_Besides?_

"How are you even here? I had Verius--"

_Ha ha ha ha ha. For all your professing of being "kind," deep down you're just like me. You would have killed me, just like you killed--_

"Shut up! Verius is the Summon Spirit of Heart. There's no reason his power should have faded, unless we have traveled backward in time!"

_Or maybe they killed Verius, too--_

"Stop it!"

A deep mental sigh.

_I'm sorry. You're naive to this world--I was only considering the worst case scenario. But maybe we have gone back in time. I ... can't reach our Centurions._

Vividly Emil remembered what had transpired in the basement laboratory, calling out to Tenebrae and even Aqua, but receiving no response. Before, when Tenebrae had regressed to his core state to save Emil from death, there was a great void he felt in his very being. All because his Centurion was gone.

But, the Centurions ... were dormant now, weren't they. Dormant Centurions returned to Ratatosk, and if Ratatosk were dormant, they returned to their altars, the seals where the Summon Spirits used to be imprisoned. But if that were so ...

"Why haven't the Centurions ... returned to us?"

_... If we have gone back in time, then Ratatosk exists here, too. If the worlds indeed are split, Ratatosk must be dormant. Ergo, the Centurions are dormant within their altars._

"But wait a minute. We had most of the cores--"

_Even after you had Verius seal me, you didn't trust me with the cores. Marta was holding them._

"Oh. I'm sorry."

_Don't apologize._ He scoffed. _Your concern was valid._

Yet that left more questions than answers. Most likely they had traveled back in time by two years, before the world was reunited, before the new World Tree had germinated. That meant there were now two Summon Spirits with name and power of Ratatosk, lord of all beasts, administrator of the world's mana, and guardian to the Ginnungagap.

Emil clenched his fists, biting his lip.

"Do we ... still have our own powers?"

_That, I don't know. Our powers result in our bonds with our Centurions, and their bonds with monsters. Since in the future their bonds have not been severed, we should retain our powers--in theory._

The incident in the basement laboratory flashed before Emil's eyes. When he and Richter had been fighting in the basement, he had stolen Richter's sword ... and then ...

"You still had Ain Soph Aur. Doesn't that mean we still have our powers?"

_I guess. We should start making pacts with monsters again soon. That way we'll grow stronger._

Inwardly Emil agreed. But already he missed the monsters he'd spent so much time and effort in raising and caring for: the Fenrir Sial, which raised from a common wolf, the tiny Chimera Tierra, Eridanus the Orca, and many more besides.

"But can we make pacts without Tenebrae?"

_Yes. I know the pact magic. Just leave it to me._

Leave it to him. Emil knew his other self was waiting patiently for his reply. The same self who had earlier this very same day proclaimed mankind as despicable parasites. The reason he had Verius seal his violent side in the first place. And yet ...

That same self had given everything to protect Marta, one such "despicable parasite." The self who'd cried and mourned for Marta when they thought Richter had killed her. Emil might not have been entirely sure, but he knew this at least: his other self had loved Marta.

"... Okay. I'll trust you."

With that, he lay down on the his bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Across the room, in the other bed, Aster stirred, his green eyes open.

Awake.

--

Kate hadn't been lying when she said Richter couldn't ever leave the lab in the basement without permission. To an extent, anyway. In the dead of night, Richter had left the lab through a secret passageway hidden in the wall behind a cabinet. Later, he returned, arms full of manila folders and binders.

Kate tilted her head to one side in question.

"Are those--?"

Richter nodded, depositing his burden on the table in the middle of the lab. He opened one of the folders, the papers inside containing photographs of the expelled Drs. Balfour and Mordio.

"Their reports on their discoveries based on their research. Dr. Balfour based his theory on the thesis that he could create perfect replicas of things and people by duplicating their mana signatures. However, the process was difficult and the mana would dissipate before its form was finalized.

"So Dr. Balfour enlisted Dr. Mordio's assistance to make fomicry work: to use blastia cores--spheres of densely concentrated mana to power blastia, a type of magitechnology--to hold the mana together long enough to finalize its form."

Kate looked over Richter's shoulder, at the files he held, but he was flipping through the papers too quickly for her to catch more than a few words. Those papers seemed to be written reports of experiments to successfully create a living replica by this method of using blastia cores as the base material.

Many of the experiments had failed.

Richter clicked his tongue impatiently.

"Hn. None of these reports state exactly whose genetic data and mana signatures they were trying to replicate."

"Maybe they were using plants, animals, or monsters." Kate suggested.

Richter replied, "No, it had to have been people--if it weren't, there'd be no need to keep it secret like this."

It went unsaid, but their discovery earlier that day--Emil, a human, built of mana with a genome identical to Aster's--supported this notion. Certainly Emil was capable of using magic, and powerful enough to destroy laboratories, if not entire buildings. Blastia were weapons used in the Kharlan War four thousand years ago. Powered by blastia cores, these weapons of magitechnology were capable of destroying entire cities.

The kind of sheer raw power Emil had displayed certainly was worthy of a blastia core.

There did exist humans who had elves in their family trees and therefore could use magic. But their magic was usually weak, and not even elves or half-elves could use such destructive magic as Emil had been about to unleash, before Aster had jumped in and stopped it.

All of this supported Richter's belief that Emil might be a product of Dr. Balfour and Dr. Mordio's fomicry theory revived. If so, there had to have been some reason for it--with Emil's power, living weapons for use in war wasn't an unbelievable thing.

Richter frowned. A human weapon ... come from the declining world of Sylvarant. Could it be possible ...

"Kate. What if Emil was a human weapon created to fight for the Desians in the declining world of Sylvarant?"

--

Aster had never watched himself wake up before. He was an avid researcher, so he was used to waking up at the crack of dawn, perhaps even earlier. Emil, meanwhile, was still deeply asleep.

Aster stood over his reflection, once again overwhelmed at the unreal, surreal experience. As far as he could tell, he and Emil were identical in every single physical aspect. Well, except in one regard--Emil seemed to be physically stronger, since he was a swordsman. He and Richter had appeared ready to fight to the death. Aster, meanwhile, wouldn't have lasted more than three seconds against either one of them.

His confidence as a man was now officially crushed.

Emil stirred, slowly waking up.

And Aster stared into his own eyes.

"Maybe you scholar types are different," Emil began slowly, drowsily, "but I find it kinda strange that you were watching me sleep." His sheepish expression made Aster laugh.

"When was the last time you had an identical twin?"

A small flush came to Emil's face. He sat upright, looking Aster in the eye. True, he never had watched himself do anything before.

"Actually," Aster said, folding his arms, "there was something I wanted to ask you."

Emil quirked a brow, tilting his head to the side quizzically. "What is it?"

"Well," Aster turned, ambling around the room. Obviously he was reluctant to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask. "You're a swordsman, right?"

Emil nodded. "Yeah." It still felt weird not to have his broadsword belted to his back. It was probably still locked up in the basement laboratory, with the rest of his belongings. Aster continued.

"Richter's always telling me to learn to fight to protect myself whenever I travel. So--"

"You want to learn to use a sword?" Emil asked. Aster shook his head.

"Not a sword. This." He lifted his right hand, on which he wore the dual spinner. WIth a flick of his thumb, he unlocked the rotating blades. "It's lightweight and doesn't require much force. Speed and agility is best for this weapon, and I'm quick on my feet."

Emil's eyes went wide, he sucked in breath between his teeth. He furrowed his brow. "That's--Marta's--"

Aster quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

Emil sighed. "N-nothing. But yeah, you want to use that, but how can I help? I use a sword."

"Just spar with me." Aster said. "I'll talk with Richter to get your stuff back."

"But what about your research?" Emil protested. He already had a guilty conscience being around both Richer and Aster two years removed from his own time. Taking Aster's time from research was the last thing he wanted to do--he blinked. Or was it?

Aster's research into the relationship between mana and monsters was what led him to Summon Spirit Ratatosk two years from now--Ratatosk, and his death. If Emil could keep Aster away from Ratatosk's domain beyond the Otherworldly Gate, then Aster would continue to live. And Richter would never attempt to summon Niflheim, the demonic realm.

Aster's voice broke his train of thought.

"Think of this as research into Sylvaranti fighting styles, then." The Sybak scholar grinned, holding the spinner. "Since I am looking after you while you're here, anyway."

Emil smiled ear to ear. As long as he could keep Aster away from the Ginnungagap, away from Ratatosk ...

_Then the world would be saved._

--

The two half-elves, so absorbed in their examination of fomicry files and reports, forgot themselves completely. When the heavy door began to open, there was a small panic. They scrambled to gather all the loose papers and photos scattered all over the lab, stuffing them back in their proper folders.

They were hurriedly cramming envelopes and binders in a chest of drawers when the door finally opened.

"Hey, Richter." Aster said sunnily, waving as he walked in. Richter sighed, a hand to his forehead, as if he suffered a headache. Beside him, Kate gave a small sigh of relief.

"What brings you here first thing in the morning?" Richter asked. He made a mental note to brew some coffee later--the strong, bitter, dark coffee from the highest caliber Gaoracchia bean.

Without hesitation or reservation, Aster walked right up to Richter and intertwined his arm with the redhead's.

"What," he half-pouted, "I can't come to see my most favorite wittle half-elf in the entire world?"

"First off," Richter said, rolling his eyes, "I'm taller than you. Secondly," he pried Aster off his arm, "you only bother me when you want something from me. What is it?"

"Your gourmet Gaoracchia coffee."

"Yes, we all know _that."_

Aster clasped Richter's hands in his, looking deeply into the older half-elf's eyes. Kate could have sworn she saw the sparkling lights between them.

"Richter," Aster said softly, intertwining his fingers in Richter's, "would you ..." he paused, probably for dramatic effect, "return Emil's things to him?"

A deathly silence.

"Ha. Ha." Sarcasm was thick in Richter's voice. He took his head away from Aster's, going to the counter in the back of the lab to being making the gourmet Gaoracchia coffee.

"Please?" Aster insisted, pulling on his best friend's coat. "Pretty please, with sugar on top?"

The coffee pot was over the burner, the coffee was ground and placed in the filter. Water began to drip as it was heated, the liquid taking the flavor of the grounds with it into the pot.

"Have you forgotten? Emil tried to kill me yesterday!"

"He didn't mean it. He apologized to you and everything!"

"Why would I want to give him his weapon back? So he can attack me again?"

The smell of brewing coffee filled the lab.

"Aww," Aster's voice reached the unnaturally high pitch of a high school girl coddling a cute kitten or puppy. "Does wittle Richter need someone to protect him from big, bad Emil?"

Behind the two young men, Kate had to practically stuff her fist in her mouth to stifle her giggling. Richter was a man of dignity. Aster was a man who liked to whittle that dignity down to nothing in order to bend the redhead to his will. The coffee was only one of the many things of Richter's that had fallen victim to Aster's clutches. There was that book, those playing cards, that model of the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge ...

Richter silently fumed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, silently asking the Goddess Martel to grant him even a sliver of her divine patience.

"Aster, I wouldn't say such things to someone who knew the spell Tidal Wave, if I were you."

"Well, booooo!" Aster stuck his tongue out his mouth playfully. "That wouldn't do you any good, would it? Not only me, but you and Kate would drown, too!"

Richter sighed as he set out three coffee mugs beside the small jar of sugar. "Seriously, why do you want me to return Emil's things to him?"

"Well," Aster put his hands on his hips, "you're always telling to pick up fighting so I can protect myself whenever I travel. And I decided to stick with the spinner, but I have no one to spar with. I'd spar with you, but ... yeah. So if you give Emil his things back, I can spar with him and get stronger."

"Hmm. Not a bad idea." Richter said, pouring coffee into each mug. "Now, if only we can be sure Emil won't lash out at me again ..."

Aster clapped his hands together. "He's out there, you're in here. And in the event I have to go somewhere he can't, he gets locked up in my dorm."

Richter turned to stare in astonishment at Aster. " ... You actually--he's locked in there right now?"

Aster nodded. "Yup. Director's orders. I'm to look after him, and if I can't watch him, we have to keep him secure somehow."

Richter cleared his throat, mixing sugar and milk into the coffee. He handed Aster and Kate their mugs, taking a small sip of his own, savoring the bold flavor. That coffee always hit the spot, and he'd always needed some of it after dealing with Aster. The blond never ceased to astound him.

"You are a dangerous man." Richter said, and Aster chortled.

"So, then, you'll--?"

"No."

"Oh come on!"

"Use a training dummy or something."

"I'll let you go on a date with me."

Richter choked, spewing coffee out of his mouth. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he sputtered, "Wh-_what?"_ He could see that Aster was dead serious.

"Let me return Emil's things to him, and I'll go on a date with you."

"Don't be absurd--"

"A set time, day, and place of a social gathering for any purpose," Aster said flatly, "is the definition of a date." He scoffed, smirking. "I wouldn't pounce you spontaneously."

Richter covered his face with a hand. "It's hard to argue with you. Though I don't know about that last part ..."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" Richter said vehemently. He put his coffee mug down, withdrawing from his coat a ring of keys. "I'll let you give the kid his stuff back. Just stop saying such creepy things!"

Aster was all smiles as Richter unlocked the locker where Emil's possessions lay. Gathering them up in his arms, he regarded Richter with a feral glint in his eye.

"Thanks, Richter. Though, you know ... I'm just playing with you. You need to loosen up."

"Get good with that spinner." Richter said flatly. "I want to see how that would chalk up to my style."

Aster had as small half-pout. "Anywho, I'm holding that date to you!"

"Whatever!"

Chuckling to himself, Aster left the lab, closing the heavy door behind him with his foot (because he was so hardcore like that).

Richter sighed, massaging his temple. "How can we go out? I can't leave here."

Kate giggled. "Like that's stopped you." She indicated the drawer where they had hidden all of the fomicry files he had taken from the archives in the library. Richter scoffed.

"Well, maybe going out just this once won't be so bad."


	5. Life in the University Town

A/N: This chapter calls for some improvising, since I was dumb and had the next chapter on my sister's profile ... so I can't reach it. Ah, well, she's gonna send it to me next time she logs on, so I can still do things before then.

Also note that Richter and Aster's date won't be for a while ... since they need to devise a way to get to Altamira (since there's nothing date-ly to do in Meltokio or Sybak, har har).

--

Part V: Life in the University Town

--

The coming days and weeks blurred into one cohesive whole, the seams blurred and indistinguishable in this new daily routine Aster had settled Emil into: arise, dress, eat, study, spar, shower, eat again, sleep, and wait for the new day to start the whole process over again. Routine wasn't a confine to Emil, on the contrary, it was a welcome constant in the kaleidoscope of his life that kept bending and twisting out of proper and natural shape.

Though Emil had a feel for what was expected of him as Summon Spirit Ratatosk and exercising his powers, he wasn't nearly as book smart as the average person on the street. To his credit, he hadn't merged with Emil's memories and had this personality to go to school. In Luin, Flora and Alba had thought it too much trouble to do Emil any sort of courtesy such as sending him to school.

It turned out that Aster was quite willing to teach him in all things academic in exchange for Emil helping him to learn to fight with the dual spinner.

They sat at the desk in Aster's dorm, surrounded by piles of books, papers, erasers, and pencils scattered all over the desktop. Emil sighed, rubbing his eyes (though it was only nine in the morning) as Aster patiently explained to him again the theory behind the mathematical phenomenon known as imaginary numbers, or to be more specific, complex numbers.

Aster pointed at the formula written on the paper, _a + bi. _ "This is the standard form of a complex number. 'a' is the real part, bi is the imaginary part. Together they make a complex number. For example," He scratched on the paper, "2 + 3i is an imaginary number. 2 is real. 3i is imaginary, as the_ i_ would indicate."

Emil stared at the paper, disheartened. "But what's the point of imaginary numbers? Why not do things with real numbers?"

Hovering over Emil's shoulder, Aster laughed good-naturedly. "That's because some equations require the use of imaginary numbers. For example, you can't have √-1 normally. The notation _i_ stands for the negative square root, or put simply, √-1."

Emil groaned, rubbing his temple. "Just what do you use imaginary numbers for?"

"Keeping track of monetary debts and credits, cartography, signal processing, electromagnetism, control theory--"

"Okay, okay, I get it! Geez."

Aster laughed as Emil folded his arms, pouting stubbornly.

"This is interesting, though. I wonder what the highest level of education in Sylvarant is?"

Emil shrugged, unsure. "I dunno. But Palmacosta's the biggest city in Sylvarant, has the Church of Martel cathedral, and there's an academy there, as well."

Aster's voice was honey-coated with this new bit of information. "Really now?" He put a hand on Emil's shoulder, watching with great interest as the swordsman in less than calligraphic handwriting did some exercises in writing complex numbers in standard form. Emil nodded absently, concentrating on his math work.

"Yeah. I'm told that the entrance exam is out of four hundred points. Some students take more than three tries to pass it."

"That sounds almost as rigorous as the Imperial Research Academy here." Aster said, cupping his chin thoughtfully. "With their level of technology, they couldn't use imaginary numbers for anything more than recording monetary debts and credits, maybe signal processing if they have anything like a radar ... hmmm."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Emil said, "but I'm done now. Is this all right?"

"Yeah!" Aster smiled, looking over Emil's handiwork. "You've got the seventh and tenth ones wrong, but they're just mistakes that are easy to make. You're doing really well! Many people your age find Algebra II too difficult."

"Well," Emil tapped the end of his pencil rhythmically on the desktop, "maybe I have a good teacher." He flashed a winning grin.

"In that case," Aster closed the Algebra II book they had been working with, plucking another thick hardcover book off one of his many shelves. He dropped it on the desktop, Emil's eyes going wide. "Let's try your hand at physics, shall we?"

Emil tentatively opened the book to the first lesson. He frowned as he read the title. "Forces?"

"Yep!" Aster hovered over Emil's shoulder, his breath tickling the shell of Emil's ear. "A force is a push, pull, or twist. It can make an object move, move faster or slower, turn or deform. It results in acceleration and/or deformation."

"Ahhh." Emil put his elbows on the desktop, resting his chin on his folded hands. "Can we at least take a break? That sounds way too dense."

Emil never saw the glint in Aster's eye. "Okay, sure. Stand up." Emil gave a relieved sigh, pushing up from the swivel chair, stretching his arms with a huge yawn. He turned, intending to go wash his face, when he was obstructed by an Aster with a maniacal grin.

"Aster?" Emil asked, brow quirked. "I'd like to go to the bathroom now ..."

Aster shook his head. Instead, he placed his hands on Emil's shoulders and shoved him back on the swivel chair with astonishing power--strength he could have only developed from his daily training with Emil. At Emil's surprised "Ooof!" as he fell back onto the chair, Aster spoke with that same deceptively honey-sweet voice.

"A physical force is a push." He stepped toward Emil, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him out of the chair, halfway across the room. "A pull." Before Emil could get a word or action in edgewise, Aster twirled him around, as if for a dance. "Or a twist."

Disoriented and blushing furiously, Emil stuttered, "A-Aster, what--"

"It can cause an object to move," Aster moved Emil around the room, "move faster," continued to do so at a quicker pace, "or slower," reduced the speed with which they traveled the dorm, "or turn." again he turned the bewildered Emil around. He smirked, looking into Emil's dizzy eyes. "Get it now?"

Emil rubbed the back of his head, brow knit. "Yeah, I guess ... are you always so ... forward?" For lack of a better word.

Aster laughed uproariously, hands on his hips. "People have called me bold, yes. After all, who in his right mind would make friends with half-elves in Tethe'alla?"

"I have half-elf friends." Emil said quietly, gaze downcast. Aster perked.

"Really? So there are half-elves in Sylvarant as well, despite the elf village being in Tethe'alla?"

Emil nodded, thinking back on the half-elves he met on his travels. "Yes. There was Harley, Alice, Genis, Professor Sage ..."

"I'm curious." Aster interrupted Emil's recitation. "What kinds of lives do the half-elves live in Sylvarant?" He waved a hand around him, gesturing. "You've seen how they live here in Tethe'alla."

"... They're free, more or less." Emil said at last. "I mean, they're still persecuted against, but they're not locked up and forced to work for humans like they are here."

Aster's mouth was a grim line. "I wonder if it's because of the Desians?"

Emil shook his head, frowning. "N-no. It's not just because of the Desians. I knew a few people in Sylvarant who grew up with half-elves and loved them just the same as their human friends. Like ..."

_Like you and Richter._

"Well," Aster cupped his chin thoughtfully, "there supposedly exists somewhere in this world a haven for half-elves, where they can live their lives free from this stupid caste system."

Emil tilted his head to one side in question. "Has Richter ever thought of going there?"

"Maybe," Aster answered. "But he wouldn't leave. Not without Kate and the others. And they refuse to try, because if they get caught, they'll be executed."

"Wh-what?"

"It's true. Thanks to the laws enacted by the Pope of the Church of Martel, any half-elf convicted--no, accused--of a crime is put to death. No exceptions."

"Th-that's crazy!"

Aster scoffed, folding his arms, his bright leaf-green eyes going dark like poison. "Tell me about it. Half-elves are people just like us. Hell, they're half _human. _ You'd think they'd be spared because of that fact, but no."

"Maybe," Emil's voice was soft, "it's because they're half human that they can't be accepted. It might be the same for the elves, too."

Aster sighed, shaking his head. He would never understand blood feuds. As far as he was concerned, if a human and an elf loved each other enough to get together, they should also unconditionally love the half-elf born between them. Instead, the elves isolated themselves from humanity, and humanity took the half-elves of their own making and abused them. It was disgusting.

"Well, I guess that's enough studying for you today. Go wash up; I gotta go see the Director."

"Why?" Emil asked. "I thought you were studying 'Sylvaranti martial arts.' "

Aster held up a single sheet of paper, a memo. "I'm on call. Maybe he wants me to research those live monsters after all."

Almost to the bathroom, hand on the doorknob, Emil stopped, brow quirked. "Live monsters?" Aster nodded in response.

"Yeah. Monsters started appearing in Tethe'alla recently. They're usually absent from the flourishing world. Many are worried that with this in addition to the decreased mana levels, Tethe'alla has begun to decline."

" ... Has Tethe'alla begun to decline?"

Aster shook his head. "The Tower of Salvation can still be seen. As long as that is here, it means this world is still flourishing."

Emil frowned. He could only faintly remember seeing the Tower of Salvation in Sylvarant, when he had "lived" in Palmacosta. An impossibly tall tower of white, breaching the heavens themselves. They were the very stairs to heaven, and the angels of Cruxis would guide the Chosen One up the Tower, to become an angel and serve the Goddess Martel. That was what he remembered from the Church's sermons, anyway.

Two worlds, two towers. Forever intertwined, as darkness and light, a celestial hourglass.

Emil scoffed. "What a stupid system ... two worlds stealing mana from each other ..."

Aster laughed as he walked out of the dorm. "I agree."

--

"So, has your team made any progress in the Angelus Project?" The tall half-elf man with short hair of dark blond and brown eyes stood before the heavy iron door. He was dressed for travel, not in the white lab coat of half-elves enslaved to the Imperial Research Academy.

"Aurum." Richter said sternly with a bent frown, "Doesn't it endanger you to be here?" Behind him stood Kate, though she did not look on the other half-elf with fright.

Aurum shook his head, no. "Not at all. Not even the Imperial Research Academy would dare lay a finger on one who bears the mark of my master, not even a half-elf."

Kate stepped forward, out of Richter's shadow. "Kate," he said, but she shook her head, standing her own ground before this strange half-elf. She stood tall, her arms folded over her chest.

"There has been no change in the test subject, not for sixteen years. The Exsphere itself has shown to be slow in the changing. It's still an Exsphere, nothing close to the Chosen's Cruxis Crystal."

"Damn," Aurum cursed, biting on his thumbnail. "My master has grown tired of waiting. But the Church will not let him take the Chosen's Cruxis Crystal."

"Tch, of course not." Richter said scathingly. "Why does your master want a Cruxis Crystal, anyway?" Aurum often visited this lab, to ask on the Angelus Project's progress. Always it was the same, and Richter had begun to wonder what this project was for.

Aurum smiled. "To win freedom for our oppressed kinfolk. Glory for the coming Age of Half-Elves!"

Richter quirked a brow. "Age of Half-Elves? What kind of babble are you spouting now?"

"Call it babble if you will." Aurum replied, his eyes going cold when they locked with Richter's. "You'll see for yourself soon enough, when that Cruxis Crystal is complete."

"We don't know how long that will take." Kate interjected, and Aurum frowned. His eyes were soft when they looked on Kate.

"Not to worry. Even if that Cruxis Crystal isn't complete in time, there are others we may set our sights on."

"The Chosen's?" Richter asked. "What do you hope to gain by defying the Church of Martel?"

"Richter." Aurum said. "By the Tethe'allan law you live under, you are required to report any and all discoveries you make in your research."

"What are you talking about?" Kate demanded, but Richter remained silent. Aurum laughed uproariously.

"You know of what I speak, Richter. And I must say, it has interested my master greatly. If you do not take the initiative in reporting this ... discovery, we will not hesitate to take action."

Richter only stared long and hard at the other half-elf man. Without any other words, harsh ones to Richter or kind ones to Kate, Aurum took his leave, closing the heavy iron door with a resounding, hammering note of finality as the lab was plunged in darkness.

Richter frowned, cupping his chin thoughtfully. "The Angelus Project was an old activity revived, or so I've heard ..." He muttered a curse, snapping his fingers.

"Damn you, Dr. Balfour."

--

It sounded like that Aster's visit to the Director would take a while, so Emil decided to go ahead and take a shower in the meantime. Being able to shower daily was a luxury he hadn't known while he had been on his journey, and on occasions where they had stayed in an inn, they were lucky if it had running water, never mind running hot water.

Sybak had running hot water. And not just that. Maybe it was only Aster's own preferences, but there were different kinds of shampoos and hair conditioners, soaps, bath bubbles, and even lotions. There was even a container that stated on its label that was just sugar crystals, and they really did clean in a scrub.

"Wow. Tethe'alla's so ... weird. Sugar's for eating, not for washing!"

_What did they use in Sylvarant?_

"You know! Soap and water! Granted, the water wasn't always hot, but ..."

_Well, I stayed mostly in Tethe'allan inns, so I wouldn't know._

"Hmph. Guess you just have expensive tastes."

_Ha ha, damn right I do! Hell, even the Tethe'alla castle isn't fit to host the Summon Spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree!_

"You're starting to sound like Zelos. I guess even Summon Spirits have a sense of humor."

_Well, on our journey, my Centurions and I were in danger. Did you think I had any time for jokes?_

"I vaguely remember you and Marta joking about what you'd do to Alice--something about the Flanoir harbor and the Fooji Mountains?"

_... I wasn't joking. Nor was Marta._

The bar of soap Emil was holding slipped from his fingers in his surprise. "No way! So you really were going to hang her from the Fooji Mountains and throw her in the Flanoir harbor?!"

_Why is that a bad thing? Alice would have broken the arms of Zelos's sister, remember? Seles was already sickly to begin with._

Meekly, Emil replied, " ... I didn't think she'd meant it."

_Martel's blood! You were lucky Richter was there to shield you from Alice when she found you in Palmacosta._

Emil sighed dejectedly as he turned off the water, reaching for his towel. "Seems like I can't do anything without you or Richter around."

_Don't be silly. After you had Verius seal me, you beat the Special rank in Meltokio's Coliseum. That has to count for something._

"Ha hah. But I was half dead by the time I won. Marta was still standing when she beat it."

_Well, Marta has healing artes. Don't let it get to you._

Emil paused as he dressed, the towel resting atop his wet head. A wry smile came to his lips. "Aww. Are you trying to _comfort_ me, Ratatosk?"

_Tch. More like to comfort myself._

"Yourself?"

_Yes. You and I are one and the same._

"Wow. I thought you'd hated me all this time."

_... I've learned something. Your kindness ... is not a weakness._

"You've changed, just like Tenebrae said."

_As have you. The old you wouldn't have had the strength you now possess._

"You mean my swordsmanship?"

_Not just physical strength. Strength of will._

"Ratatosk ..."

_Hmph. You're lucky I don't have to say this aloud, or you might never have heard it._


	6. The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge

A/N: I seem to have killed my creativity--I've been having lots of trouble drawing and writing anything worthwhile. Bah. But I'll still try!

--

Part VI: The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge

--

Aster was not the average Tethe'allan human. He was a child prodigy with intelligence to rival that of any half-elf, counted half-elves among his friends in a society that condemned them for simply _being_ half-elves, stubborn, and unnaturally sunnily happy-go-lucky. He really could be described as a human "with a few screws loose."

As he bounded (or rather, bounced) through the Imperial Research Academy (to the amusement, befuddlement, and irritation of other scientists), with the Director's memo clenched in his fist, his usual smile was a flat line, his eyes distant in thought. What could the Director want with him? A month ago it had been to assign him to watch over Emil, the disoriented Sylvaranti discovered at the Otherworldly Gate.

Would this new assignment give Emil to some other researcher? He couldn't say he would like that--who knew how the other scientists might treat Emil, especially since he had no restraint in the strange things he said, having half-elf friends among them. Aster was protected by the Academy, so it was fine for him to be flaunting his half-elf relations, but Emil ... wasn't even Tethe'allan.

Or perhaps this meant Emil was now a valid test subject. Richter had expressed concerns for Emil being identical to Aster, as well as being able to wield the power of mana (as demonstrated in the basement before). Humans weren't supposed to be able to use mana. If he had elves in his family tree, that would be fine, except elf-descended humans' magic was pathetically weak. Only an Exsphere would put that magic on par with that of elves' and half-elves' ability. Emil had no Exsphere.

The hallway of the upper floor where the Director's room rested was practically empty. Aster quirked a brow as he knocked on the Director's door. The lack of scientists meandering about meant that the appearance of monsters in Tethe'alla had those researchers cooped up in their labs and busy. His mind went back to the line of cages that contained live monster samples collected throughout Tethe'alla. He clenched his fists. He had his hands full training and tutoring Emil these days, but should he return to his mana-monster research? Ordinarily he'd doubt that someone like Emil would be of much help in that regard, but he had an odd feeling that this wasn't the case.

A few moments after the knocks, the door opened, and the Director's eyes lit up when he saw Aster.

"Ah, Aster! So glad you could make it. Come in, won't you?"

By now Aster knew to watch his step whenever he set foot in the Director's room. The floors were littered with stacks and columns of books, the wooden shelves empty and supporting naught but layers of dust and cobwebs. If Aster had no bookshelves, his room might look like this, but he rather liked not knowing when he'd trip, fall, and break something. Probably his neck. However, he also knew not to mention this to the Director, who sat at his desk.

"Have a seat, please."

Shrugging, Aster folded his arms and sat on a stack of thick hardcover books. When the Director quirked a brow at this, Aster merely smiled sweetly.

"So to what do I owe this honor?" He waved the memo. "I don't much like having to leave Emil locked up in my dorm for long."

"The Sylvaranti," Director Schneider murmured. "We'll get to him eventually. I have a job for you. You saw the surveyors collecting live monsters, yes?"

Aster nodded, recalling the plant monster from the Gaoracchia Wood. The plant monster that disliked sunlight. "Do you want me to study them?"

The Director shook his head. "No, I've something else in mind. I'd like for you to go to the Elemental Research Laboratory in Meltokio. See if they can get permission to study the monsters brought in for the Coliseum before they are loosed in the arena."

That made sense, Aster thought. Sybak must be using so much of its resources to capture live monsters, but those of the Meltokio Royal Army capturing those very same monsters for the Coliseum to pit against criminals would have much more manpower for the task, and capture many more species than what the surveyors have managed so far. The people of Sybak weren't particularly gifted fighters, after all. The surveyor teams must have shuddered every time they were sent to collect the savage beasts.

And the Elemental Research Laboratory was practically right next to the Coliseum, in the perfect position to study those monsters before they were put in the battle arena. Plus the corpses could be studied after the criminals and gladiators were finished with them. All in all, it wasn't such a bad deal for the researchers of both Sybak and Meltokio. And with most of the grunt studying being done by other people, Aster could achieve results with his own work that much faster ...

"All right, Director. I'll do it. It's not such a bad deal, is it?"

The Director clapped his hands. "Very good! I knew I could count on you! How soon will you be prepared to leave?"

Aster looked up to the ceiling, tapping his toe on the ground in thought. "Immediately, actually." He stood, brushing off the pile of books that he had used for a chair. "I guess I'll shove off, then. May I bring Emil with me?"

"As long as you are with him at all times, I don't see why not."

"All right. Director, about Emil ..."

"Hm?"

"Are we really going to turn him into a test subject?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I just thought ... as a Sylvaranti, he's not protected under Tethe'allan law, despite the fact he's human. He's also said some strange things about 'summoning Niflheim,' and he has some ... ability to channel and use mana to an extent."

The Director furrowed his brow, frowning with an expression of bewilderment.

"The existence of the demonic realm is completely hypothetical. As for his ability to use mana, can that not be explained as his having elves in his family tree?"

Aster shook his head. "No, it was too strong for that."

"Does he have an Exsphere?"

There was a long pause. Aster's gaze was unfaltering; he looked the Director in the eye. Slowly, he clenched his fists tightly at his sides.

"Yes."

"Well, then, there you go. Such a trivial thing need not be a test subject, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I do, Director Schneider."

--

Emil had finished showering and dressed, drying his hair off with a towel. He looked about the room--his shoes and broadsword were lying at the foot of his bed (the covers of which were unkept), as were his travel bags full of medicinal supplies along with his Gald and spare equipment. The latter had begun gathering dust, unused for the last month he had been cooped up here in Sybak.

He frowned. Cooped up ... he shouldn't think like that. Rilena hadn't brought him here to imprison him, nor did Richter or Aster seek to do that. It wasn't a bad life--he had a place to stay, he ate every day, he could shower daily with hot water, and he received a free education, the quality of which only the wealthiest could afford in Sylvarant. Yet all this, in exchange for his freedom. Well ... it wouldn't have been so different in the Ginnungagap, would it?

_It's not_ that _bad, y'know._

Emil stood by the desk, flipping through the pages of the physics textbook. Forces, heat, thermodynamics, wavelengths, electricity ... pretty dense stuff. Yet Aster made it look so very easy, the way he always seemed to regurgitate the textbook whenever Emil asked him a question. Aster's intelligence and breadth of knowledge probably rivaled even that of the Sage siblings, the smartest people Emil had known before. That intelligence had led him to discover Ratatosk and his Centurions. That in turn would also lead--

_This is becoming a bothersome habit of yours._

Emil slammed the physics book shut, a bent frown on his lips.

"Th-that's not all I was thinking."

_You do have a tendency to dwell on dark thoughts, such as Aster's death._

"No, really!" Emil folded his arms, sitting down on his bed, his frown turned into a pout. "Aster's really smart. One of Sybak's best and brightest."

_Well, yeah, he didn't get to work here from the age of nine if he wasn't._

"I just thought ... Aster might figure out who we are."

_... There hasn't been much time we're without him in the last month. And we can't go anywhere without him unless the Director says otherwise._

Emil clenched his fists. "What'll we do if he does realize it?"

_I see what you mean. We haven't been exactly doing a good job of hiding things._

The incident in the basement laboratory when he had awakened flashed back in Emil's mind. Both he and his other self had called out Richter for trying to summon the demons of Niflheim, tried to summon the Centurions Aqua and Tenebrae, fought with Richter, and almost unleashed Ain Soph Aur. Pile on the strange things that kept slipping out of his mouth, and he may as well go around telling everyone he met his true identity.

If it were just Emil's other personality, that wouldn't be such a difficult thing for him to do. He had been about to break free back in the basement, after all. It wouldn't be such a big deal--he was the primeval being of this world, even older than the elves themselves. Like these meager mortals had any business locking him up anywhere!

But his gentler self liked to make things complicated.

"N-no I don't!"

_Pardon me for leading an uncomplicated life unrestricted by the rules mortals make._

"That's anarchy." Emil said flatly.

_Exactly. Summon Spirits have no need for governance. Not like we go around warring with one another._

Emil sighed, leaning against the wall. His other self wasn't wrong. If Summon Spirits had taken part in any war, it was at their summoners' behest, and in a war that involved only humans and half-elves. No Summon Spirit could be killed unless there was an absence of mana, or Ratatosk's core was destroyed. Emil didn't know whether or not the other Summon Spirits had cores, too.

"What would he do, though? Maybe ask about the mana balance, but if he knew about his death--" Emil started, clamping his mouth shut and hitting the back of his head on the wall. He cringed, rubbing the bump as the door opened, and in walked Aster with a knit brow.

"Emil, did you hit your head? Are you okay?"

Emil nodded, looked at his hand--no blood. "I'm fine. What did the Director want?"

Aster pulled the swivel chair close to him, sitting in it backward, resting his elbows on the backrest. "I'm supposed to go to Meltokio's Elemental Research Laboratory and help them get an okay to study the monsters the Royal Army captures for the Coliseum before they're sent to the Arena."

"Really now?" Emil asked, pointedly ignoring Ratatosk's mental jab of, _You've got to stop thinking aloud like that._

Aster nodded, standing up. "Yeah. Get ready; you're coming with me."

"What, we're leaving today?"

"Uh-huh." Aster flashed a mischievous grin. "I want to you to see the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge with your own two eyes."

Emil grabbed his shoes, slipping them on. The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge ... there had been no such bridge in all his travels of the Tethe'allan lands on his previous journey, and none of his Tethe'allan friends said anything about it. Such a structure must have been pretty significant to bear a name like that.

"Is it a special bridge?"

Aster laughed. "Does the word 'grand' say nothing to you? It connects the Fooji and Altamira continents, spanning the ocean between."

Emil belted his broadsword to his waist, doing the same for his travel bags (how weird it felt to be wearing them after not doing any kind of traveling for a month now). "A bridge that spans the entire ocean? Wow ..."

"I know, aren't you bursting with excitement! It's almost noon. We can reach the bridge by late afternoon if we hurry."

"It's that close?"

"Yeah. Just a ways south of Sybak, if we follow the road."

"Right, then. Let's go!"

--

The day was bright and sunny as the unrelated identical twins set out on the road south of the University Town. The sky was a rich blue, mostly clear (wisps of grey clouds lurked near the horizon). Aster led the way despite the being the inexperienced fighter against monsters, though Emil wasn't too far behind. The road seemed pretty desolate, which could be attributed to the appearance of monsters in the flourishing world. If they did come across any other travelers, it was either by horseback or stagecoach. Not that either of them minded this. Neither liked crowds very much.

Emil had promised himself he'd begin forging pacts with monsters again, but as long as he was with Aster, the feat would prove difficult. It wasn't easy to pass off a savage beast as a stray pet, either. Inwardly he wondered if the pact making could just wait, but his other self wouldn't give in to that request. As they had unintentionally traversed the stream of time, there was no telling if and when their power could be cut off from their Centurions and their bonds with monsters. If they were wrong, fine, but they had no way of knowing whether or not they were wrong. Bonding with monsters again would be a form of insurance against the worst case scenario.

Ratatosk had no qualms of pact making out in the open. It was Emil with the reservations. Those stemmed particularly from his life in Luin, being bullied by the townspeople, accused of setting his "monster friends" loose to attack people. Quite strange that he was able to make pacts and bond with monsters so easily after the fact ... then again he had been egged on a certain Centurion of Darkness.

It hadn't been long before the first pack of monsters found them. Three wolves, and riven enough with hunger that they would take a pair of humans over their natural prey. Aster quickly equipped his spinner, unlocking the blades. He forced the first wolf away with Crescent Dance, one of the artes Emil taught him (Emil may use a sword, but he knew Marta's style like the back of his hand). Like Aster originally thought, the spinning blades sliced through the thick fur and flesh easily enough, beads of blood raining on the packed dirt of the road.

Emil was having difficulty. Not in the actual fighting, of course (he beat down one wolf easily enough), but rather which persona would do the fighting. That was a delicate enough relationship in itself, one that merited mental strain if they fought over control of the body. Emil clumsily blocked a lunge by the wolf he was fighting, Aster's battle nothing more than background noise.

_C'mon, Emil, lemme at him! I haven't sliced anything open in ages!_

_I've got it! And don't say it like that! You sound like a crazy serial killer._

_I thought you didn't like fighting?_

_I don't like it,_ Emil forced the wolf off, dodging a bite and leaping over it in a Ravaging Tiger. _But that's no reason to let you go crazy!_

_What? There's no one here but Aster. I won't hurt him. I never hurt anyone else, did I?_

Emil almost rolled his eyes; his other self nearly sounded like a puppy whining for its favorite snack. There were those poor fishermen in Izoold, there was Magnar in Luin, and those two guards in the Temple of Lightning that almost lost their heads thanks to his other self's infamously short temper.

_You know what I mean. Colette and the others--I never hurt them whenever I "went crazy."_

The wolf went down with a howl and Emil's Dual Death arcane arte. The other wolf went right for him, which Emil not-so-gladly obliged. From the corner of his eye he saw Aster engaging his wolf in a dance of death (more like Crescent Dances and Swallow Waltzes). However, the scientist's greenness showed through, and in a miscalculation, the wolf lunged, pinning him to the ground. Belatedly Aster blocked the beast's fangs with the spinner, grunting with the effort.

"Aster!" Emil was distracted in that one moment, all that was needed. Green eyes darkened to red, and a smirk came to his lips. With a single Demon Fang he tore through the wolf blocking his path, bounding over to his fallen living mirror.

Emil's Heavenly Tempest sent the beast flying, allowing Aster to scramble to his feet. The swordsman landed on his feet, in front of the scientist. The wolf limped, its coat matted with blood. Aster moved to put the beast out of its misery, but Emil flung out an arm, stopping him.

"No need. I've got this." He sheathed his sword, stepping toward the monster. He extended a hand, and underneath his feet and the wolf's appeared a magic circle, a glyph of red gold light in the most curious design. He held the wolf's gaze within his own.

_"O servant of Nature,"_ His voice reverberated, layered with power, _"bend to mine will!"_

Aster stared, eyes wide, jaw slack as his companion--the Sylvaranti--performed this strange ritual. After a time of nothing but the swordsman and beast staring one another down, the magic glyph disappeared. Emil lowered his hand, and the monster meekly approached him and nudged his hand. Aster almost dropped the spinner at this unnatural display of a beast being subservient to a human.

"Wh-what was that?" Aster demanded as Emil applied gels to the wolf's numerous wounds. "It's a monster! Why are you--"

"His name's Titan." Emil answered calmly, giving the wolf a scratch behind the ears. It leaned into the touch, wagging its tail like a dog. "Guess he lived a pretty tough life, to have to hunt hapless travelers instead of his usual."

Aster fell silent. There was the display of magic again. None of the elves or half-elves he'd seen using magic had any spells like that, and no mage would ever dream of trying to capture a monster like this. No, maybe "capture" wasn't the right word. It looked more like Emil had ... bonded with the monster. But that was totally absurd, wasn't it?

"How did you do that? It was perfectly fine with trying to eat us a moment ago!"

"Pact magic." Emil said flatly. "I just forged a pact with this monster. If I take him under my wing, he'll help me. Plain and simple."

"No mage has ever been able--or willing--to do something like that before!" Aster protested. He stopped, a sudden thought coming to him. "You said you forged a pact. Is that like making pacts with Summon Spirits?"

"Basically, yes. You have to force your opponent to yield to you in battle. However, the two are different. Monsters and Summon Spirits, you know."

Instantly Aster knew this had something to do with the monsters possessing mana of their own, though the particulars of it escaped him. He also noticed that Emil had suddenly become more aggressive, and that his eyes had changed. Red Eyed Emil had displayed a change like this back in the basement lab of Sybak, too. Green Eyed Emil was different on so many levels. But Red Eyes hadn't appeared since then, before now. Was Emil only capable of using magic when those red eyes showed themselves? It certainly looked that way.

Emil gave Aster a sideways glance, a bent frown on his face.

" ... It's an ancient ritual, from the original elves who descended from the Great Motherland."

"You mean the Derris-Elves."

"The very same."

"So are you affiliated with the elves?"

"I doubt they'd recognize me like this."

"Meaning?"

" ... I am from Sylvarant."

Aster didn't look convinced, but he dropped the subject for now, with a shrug. Locking the blades on his spinner, he continued down the road. If they didn't make it to the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge by sunset, they'd be stuck camping in the Sybak grasslands, something he'd rather avoid. Unless this red-eyed Emil was willing to go forging pacts with all the monsters that would attack them in the night.

Emil followed, throwing for Titan a bit of dried beef jerky--something more satisfying would be cooked when they stopped for a rest. The wolf chomped down the jerky gratefully, never too far from his new master.

_Tch. Now look what you did. Aster suspects us even more!_

Emil shrugged, though he did so halfheartedly--he felt a headache coming on.

_I told you, I don't care whether or not Aster finds out who we are._

_But if he does, he'll find out what'll happen two years from now--_

_Chill. We have two years. Besides, who's to say he'll find out we killed him before? It's not as if anybody else came back in time. _

_... You're sure about that?_

_Positive. It was a warp of my power that flung us back here, and only those affected by my power would have been pulled in. The only one that would have been is Marta, and I don't sense her or the Centurions. So we're the only ones here._

_... Hey._

_What is it?_

_I wonder what Lloyd and the others were like in this time. Do you think we'll meet them?_

As the sun sank toward the horizon, the sky fading from blue to orange to blood red, Emil frowned. He quickly up turned it into a smile when Aster looked over his shoulder, pointing ahead to the impossible long Grand Tethe'alla Bridge just a little ways off. Even from this far it looked so big. Once they crossed this bridge, the Imperial City of Meltokio was just a stone's throw away.

"This bridge is the greatest investment in Tethe'allan knowledge and technology--its control system incorporates an estimated total of 10,000 Exspheres."

"I'm glad that power's being used for the bridge, instead of some war machine."

Aster paused, looking out to the bridge and the ocean underneath it. "Yeah, me too."

_I think we will meet them._

_Really? That'd be great if we did!_

_But I have a feeling we won't like it one bit._

--

A/N: Argh, I know, it's slow and crawling and not much has happened yet ... But the time travel is really super important. Emil's gonna be interfering with much of the original ToS's storyline (Lloyd & Co coming to Tethe'alla the first time, the Desians in Tethe'alla, etc). Though since his main focus is preventing Aster's death, I don't think he'll go off to fight Mithos, but Ratatosk might be tempted to ("That filthy half-elf and his friends betrayed me!").


	7. The Imperial Capital, Meltokio

A/N: Happy belated New Year, everyone! School has begun again, so I might not be able to update as often as I'd like.

--

Part VII: The Imperial City, Meltokio

--

In the end, despite their haste, Aster and Emil didn't make it to the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge until nightfall. By nightfall, the ocean wind had a foul chill, and the grey wispy clouds in the sky had gathered, blotting out the sea of stars in the heavens, though the slim crescent moon would have none of it. Along with the chilly darkness, it had begun to rain.

The ground of the plain they had just crossed was hard enough that it wouldn't turn into mud immediately, but they were traversing the bridge now, a structure built of metal, concrete and cobblestone. All of those materials were quite slippery when wet. A fall to the ice-cold ocean was not something to look forward to--that is, if they survived the drop itself.

In a chilly downpour at night with howling winds, one would think the guard posted at Sybak's end of the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge would think of his own well being and trotted off home. No such luck. The guard was still standing by the entrance of the bridge, seemingly unperturbed by the elements raging all around him. He blocked the path, speaking over the noisy wind and pelting rain in order to be heard.

"Who are you, and what is your business crossing this bridge?"

There were bridges scattered throughout Tethe'alla (undoubtedly Sylvarant as well), some of which were guarded or regulated with a toll or some such, but the Grand Bridge was held in the tightest fist the King of Tethe'alla could outstretch. This bridge cost much time, effort, and money to build and operate. Even the trade caravans (for whom this bridge was partly built) underwent inquiry.

The guard seemed to be alone, yet there were probably more in the cottage nearby that served as the barracks for Royal Army soldiers posted to guard and regulate this bridge. On any other day, Aster would have been glad to cooperate with the guard, who was only doing his job, earning his fair share of Gald. But on a night like tonight, Aster wasn't in much of a mood to cooperate with anything.

"To get out of this blasted rain, for one," He muttered venomously through chattered teeth, chafing his hands together to warm them. The biting cold and howling winds pierced even though his coat--as if the long-sleeved shirt he wore under the coat or his boots or pants didn't matter! He was chilled, drenched to the bone.

Emil, whose eyes still glowed blood red, sighed, undisturbed by the sharp, stabbing rain and cold.

"We're from Sybak, headed for the Imperial capital on business from Director Schneider of the Imperial Research Academy himself." As if there were anything else to go to or see on the other land mass besides the capital.

The guard looked skeptical (or was bemused albeit amused at the identical twins he was facing) until Aster took his wallet from his coat pocket, flipped through it and shoved the identification card in the man's face. The guard shuffled aside, murmuring about the famous (infamous) researcher Aster ("Fraternizing with half-elves!").

Aster scoffed, still futilely rubbing his limbs to coax some minute degree of warmth into them, stalking along the bridge. The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge was quite long, to span such an expanse of ocean between two continents. No doubt their feet would hurt quite a bit by the time they got off the bridge, never mind having actually reached Meltokio. Under the sound of pelting rain, the pitter patter of Titan's paws was just audible if one knew how to listen. The wolf had slipped past the guard when he was busy with the human travelers.

Emil clicked his tongue, falling into step beside Aster. The researcher gave him a look, something between curiosity and a pout, which probably attributed to the awful weather the Goddess Martel (who favored those who traveled as per her teachings) saw fit to bless them with on their journey. Best not to call it a journey, Emil thought. It was just a short trip to the Capital and back. Quite a lame journey, just having to kill time so Ratatosk's rediscovery didn't kill Aster.

"So why do your eyes change color?"

Emil blinked, realizing the human he traveled beside had just asked him a question. There was a fleeting moment when he recalled what the question was, a gap filled by Aster's coughing. When he wasn't able to conjure the right words, his living mirror continued.

"Is it related to your ability to use mana?"

Emil kept his gaze focused on the path ahead. The bridge was so long, he couldn't even see the end of it, though that may be attributed to the darkness of the night. Certainly the stormy rain clouds and the sliver of the moon wouldn't help to light their way. And the worst of the most rotten luck, to have to cross this bridge in this awful weather ... next to him Titan nudged his hand, as if sensing his discomfort.

"You're pretty observant." He said at last. "Not even those who claimed to be closest to me noticed that."

_Hey ... that's mean to Marta._

_But it's true. If eyes are so attractive to humans, why don't they know when they suddenly change color? Red and green contrast a lot, too._

"Will you answer me?" Aster glowered under sopping wet bangs. He coughed, a wracking, hard sound. He was shivering pretty violently, too--did Aster not do well in the cold and wet weather? Emil paused, considering.

"My eyes change color because of the mana within me."

_That's not a_ complete _lie._

_Like he'd believe I'm Ratatosk._

_I dunno, he just might._

_... Human with a few screws loose, indeed._

Unfortunately, neither of them had anticipated this rainy weather, so they had no cloak or coat or some such to keep their heads dry. For Emil it wasn't such a big deal, but Aster was a cause for concern, especially with all that coughing, shivering, and the occasional sneeze. Emil may be a Summon Spirit, but Aster was human. Humans got sick in weather like this.

Briefly something twinged in his memory, of a woman half-elf whose sickness eluded even the most accomplished elvish healers. That sickness resulted in the use of a deadly thing that people used and continued to use even to this day. Back then, when one of the woman's friends asked if there was anything he could do, he had only scoffed: "If you want to do something about it, use your own head."

_Is there something on your mind?_

Emil blinked, stopped in the middle of the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge. The wind still howled and the rain had not let up. Aster halted as well, quirking a brow quizzically. Emil shook his head, approached Aster, and gave him the black scarf wound around his neck.

"Aren't _you_ cold?" Aster asked defensively, holding the scarf as though it might bite. "You don't even have a coat!"

Emil shrugged, unfazed by the biting cold the nighttime wind and rain that fell so hard it hurt.

"I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about--if you get sick, you can't do the job Director Schneider gave you."

Aster glowered but said nothing else, holding his head high as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. Just because he liked to whittle Richter's dignity down to nothing, didn't mean he didn't have any dignity of his own. Dignity that may abhor the sharing of clothes, even if it was only an outer layer that wasn't even really necessary. Richter would smirk. Or even laugh! Aster held up a hand, saying lowly and clearly--in almost a growl--

"Richter. Will not. Know of this."

Seeing the human scientist, Sybak's _best and brightest, _all flustered and pouting over borrowing someone's scarf just because the lender didn't want him to get sick in this infernal weather, the corners of Emil's mouth twinged upward, but didn't quite form into a smirk. Or a laugh. He'd rather not be on the receiving end of that dual spinner. A few screws loose _meant_ a few screws loose.

Emil held up his arms, as if defending himself. "You have my word."

--

Aster was gone, sent away to the Elemental Research Laboratory in Meltokio on assignment from the Director himself, about studying the monsters brought for the Coliseum before they were put into the Arena itself. It wasn't the first time Aster had been sent on some such job throughout Tethe'alla, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

Richter sighed as he sipped some of his gourmet Gaoracchian coffee--the first cup in a long while that didn't fall victim to Aster's clutches--drumming his fingers rhythmically on the transparent three ringed binder that contained a printed report on his most recent discovery. The bold title glared at him within the binder's covers, and underlined phrase about outlawed research revived, and a subtitle of a possible living weapon.

Aurum's words rang loud and clear in his mind: by the Tethe'allan law he was currently subjugated to, he was required at his own peril to report any and all of his discoveries within the jurisdiction of the Imperial Research Academy. Half-elves had been imprisoned and executed for the accusation of "hoarding" research materials as well as important information before. This discovery certainly was within the jurisdiction of the Imperial Research Academy, for it was a possible case of outlawed aspects of fomicry resurrected and executed in secret.

Of course there was no definite proof yet. The Director had told Aster that for the time being, Emil would be treated as a guest under Tethe'alla's heavens. But the reality was that, as a Sylvaranti, Emil was not protected under Tethe'allan law, even if he was human. This report, penned by Richter himself, would brand Emil an enemy of Tethe'alla, and damn him as less than human. Less than _half-elves._

Emil had tried to kill Richter. But Emil did seem to be out of sorts at that time, and hadn't returned to finish the endeavor since. He had even apologized after the fact along with well on his way to being a good friend of Aster's. Aster had few human friends. Emil didn't seem to be such a bad person either, and wasn't bothered in the least to be around half-elves. No self-respecting, caste-abiding human in Tethe'alla would dare _apologize_ to a half-elf of all things. Many would jump at the bit for a chance to kill a half-elf.

Could Richter send in this report, a meager sheaf of papers that would in effect ruin Emil's friendship with Aster, and dash his very life on the rocks? If Emil were the product of fomicry, he was less than human because he had no real parents, no real family. If he were a living weapon of the Desians' making for wreaking havoc in the declining world of Sylvarant, most Tethe'allans would think him better off dead. Just like the Chosen of Sylvarant, an enemy to Tethe'alla.

Yet Aurum's threat loomed in the dank air of the basement laboratory.

_"If you do not take initiative in reporting this ... discovery, we will not hesitate to take action."_

What did that mean, they would take action? Action against Richter, or Emil? Either way, there was only one thing for certain: both options would result in something bad, maybe even catastrophic, for Emil. It was choosing the lesser of two evils, offer up Emil to save his own skin, or take the fall, and still have Emil suffer. Sighing heavily, Richter deposited his report in a drawer, downing the last of his coffee.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

--

The rain had cleared quite readily as the hours passed. Meltokio's gate had been closed when they arrived so late at night, but when they had shouted to the watch who they were and where they were from (on whose business), an exception was made for them. The gates opened only a smidgeon, but it was enough for them to get through. Their objective after that had only been one place--the inn.

The innkeeper had not been happy when these late customers had showed up so abruptly on the doorstep. Nonetheless, as with all innkeepers, all that was needed was a handful of Gald, and he would gladly show them some hospitality and take them to a vacant room. There they toweled off them the rain's water, and Aster flung Emil's scarf back at him, muttering vehemently that if he had taken cold, that the scarf's owner might partake in his suffering. Absently as they took to their separate beds for the night, Emil thought,

_I'm glad Aster's not a mage ... he could work such curses, no doubt._

_Hah, is the great Lord Ratatosk, Summon Spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree, Lord of all Beasts, scared of a mere human?_

Irritably, Emil replied, _Quiet, you. If you haven't forgotten, we share the same body. If Aster could work such curses, you would suffer as well._

_Sigh ... please, Ratatosk, I'm tired of fighting ..._

Yet fight they must, Emil mused as he drifted in a dreamless state of half-sleep. They had been flung backward in the course of time, and it was in this era that they must fight, even more so urgently than in their own timeline. It was here that they had the chance to work great deeds, to change the very flow of time itself, so some things should never come to pass, such as the death of the human who shared this very same room with Emil.

When day broke and Aster went forth to the Elemental Research Academy, Emil felt a presence, a presence he had not felt since he had traveled back in time. Indeed Lloyd and his fellows must have come to Tethe'alla sooner or later, and his other self had professed a desire in seeing them before he knew them. Doubt nagged him, he had already told himself he would not like it when he had to meet Lloyd and his companions in this era.

Was it kindness, then, or his own savage cruelty, that allowed his green-eyed self to go forth in Meltokio and seek out his once-friends?

--

A/N: Uhm, I kinda lost my synopsis ... so here this chapter must end. But it had Richter in it!


	8. The Once Friends

A/N: Not much going on with me; I've been sick, have a math test tomorrow and I wrote an ode to a table.

--

Part VIII: The Once-Friends

--

Meltokio was a very large city. In the morning Aster showed Emil the way to the Elemental Research Laboratory, which happened to be just down the street from the inn they had just stayed in the night before. There the Sybak scientist bid him to go see the sights of the city and entertain himself for a while; the process of getting the affirmative to research monsters before they were deposited into the arena would take a while. It involved a long, drawn-out process of filling out paperwork and having discussions of the consequences of such an action, mostly financial.

Emil happily obliged, leaving the small, dimly lit Elemental Research Laboratory in favor of exploring the lively city. It certainly was more crowded than when he had visited the walled imperial capital two years from now. With the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge still existing, it brought in many, many people in addition to those who traveled by ship. There were merchants lining the streets, selling everything from weaponry to everyday items, with selections that put most other stores to shame.

The path bending from the Lab led down a set of crumbling stone stairs: the way to the slums. Certainly Emil could defend himself in the worst parts of town, but he had absolutely no desire to get into any street fights. Not to mention it'd be bad for Aster--since they were identical, most likely the researcher would get the blame if Emil did get into any trouble with the law, anywhere in Tethe'alla. So Emil stuck to the upper city, exploring the shops (there were some broadswords, but he rather liked the one he had). He was looking through the wares of an accessory merchant when a group of people by the open gate caught his eye.

His heart skipped a few beats and he almost dropped the topaz ring he was examining. Just entering the city was a young man he knew by sight: the unruly reddish brown hair, the red jacket with white buttons, boots to match, black pants with suspenders, and the telltale twin swords belted about his waist. The man he'd blamed, and later sought help from. The man who would one day become his friend. Flanking Lloyd were Genis (who didn't look very different from the future) and his older sister Raine. Emerging from behind them was Colette, with an oddly blank stare in her deep blue eyes, and for some reason, her transparent angel wings of glittering magenta were at her back.

Emil could have been jumping up and down; he was so excited. He'd get to see his friends again! Before all the unpleasantness of a need for secrets beyond the newly born World Tree, before all the guilt and blame cast upon an innocent person for the destruction of a city. He was already weaving his way through the crowds and running to meet them, forgetting they were supposed to be strangers in this time. What stopped him short was not suddenly remembering the former fact, but something else entirely: a dog had walked up to Lloyd's group.

The act itself of a dog approaching them was not so strange in and of itself. But what happened to the dog was a different story entirely. The impossible in Emil's eyes indeed occurred before his very worldly eyes: Colette looked at the dog once, and _kicked it,_ sending it flying down the street with a pitiful yelp. She didn't give it a second glance, not once. Lloyd's group had stunned expressions, but none gave out exclamations or the slightest inquiry as to Colette's behavior. Emil, standing by the wall, actually sank to his knees.

"What ... the hell?" He asked breathlessly. "She _loves_ dogs! Why would she ... ?"

_I_ told _you we wouldn't like it._

Emil glared at nothing in particular as Lloyd's group moved up the stairs, advancing to the next level of the city. _Why is Colette kicking dogs? It's her favorite animal! Besides, she was never really the violent type ..._

_I don't know why the Chosen is acting this way. But I have a feeling it's better if we don't get involved._

_But for Colette to act this way--_

_They were all just fine as friends two years from now, weren't they?_

To that Emil had no adequate reply. Whatever made Colette be cruel to dogs, it seemed that she had gotten over it by the time she met him two years later. But it wasn't just something he could ignore. Resolutely, he followed them up the stairs, intending to find out just why Colette was abusing dogs, and to find some way to help her, to return her to the gentle person she once was. He pointedly ignored the way Ratatosk was saying that for all they knew, Colette once had been a violent person before they had known her. That just wasn't true, it couldn't be. Sure, the Chosen could be a little weird (an ... apple steak?), but she was a good person!

On the second level of the city that led to the Coliseum, Emil stopped, seeing how Lloyd's group had halted in the middle of the plaza. With a frown Emil remembered in his own time, how here Alice had set that golem monster on them, and as a result, Tenebrae returned to core form. He shook his head of the memory. Tenebrae had been all right after the fact, and here in this place, Alice had even helped someone, although Decus hadn't been very well, the natural chaos of Solum's core driving him close to insanity. Instead of dwelling on the past (future), he focused on the present (past).

Lloyd and his friends were looking around, drinking in the huge sights of Meltokio (as most Sylvaranti were wont to do upon visiting the grand capital for the first time), when a group of ladies descending the stairs from the royal quarter bumped into Colette, who oddly didn't seem to be aware of her surroundings. The three ladies then were arguing amongst themselves about Colette's inexcusable behavior (which Lloyd strangely let go), when the unbelievable happened yet again: Zelos appeared before Colette, but that wasn't the strange part. Colette took Zelos's arm and _threw him across the plaza._

Emil's jaw dropped. "Wh-what?" He knew Zelos was famous as a philanderer, but only Sheena had ever taken physical action against him. Colette ... threw him across the plaza ... the thought was mind-boggling, even more so than the concept of her kicking dogs around. He crept closer, figuring he'd get away with being a spectator (this was a strange sight in Meltokio indeed). He heard Zelos, upon recovering and coming close again, saying something to the effect of, "You don't know me?" Emil figured this was the first time Lloyd and Co met Zelos.

Pulled away by the ladies, Zelos continued on his way. He never looked once at Emil, though that was to be expected since Zelos knew nobody named Emil yet. Still, seeing people he had counted as friends completely ignore him ... and exhibiting such strange behavior ... it hurt, to say the least. For a good long while he contemplated going to find Aster, finish up whatever business the Director would have the researcher do and get back to Sybak. Let Lloyd and his friends resolve their own issues. Emil had problems of his own to worry about, namely a murder to uncommit. The only thing that prodded Emil to continue to follow Lloyd's group up to the royal quarter before the gates of the castle was the thought of possibly being able to help Colette with whatever was wrong with her.

There was a change in the guard at the castle gates and Emil didn't hear much, just that the King wasn't accepting visitors on account on his being ill. And, looking at the right state Lloyd and his friends were in, even if the King were healthy, it was doubtful if they would be granted an audience. Sylvarant wasn't even united as a world, much less a country. Every village had its own leader. The closest they had to a king of their own was the Governor-General in Palmacosta. But that was for one city; the only city that had a navy and even an army. Every other place had only militias, paltry nothings compared to Palmacosta's military might.

But Tethe'alla was on an entirely different level.

It appeared they couldn't get inside the castle, but damnit if they would give up. Lloyd and Company wheeled to the left instead, entering the huge building that was the Church of Martel Cathedral. All the other times Emil had come to Meltokio--the fight with Alice, the little scene Alice and Decus had caused, being dropped off by Richter, and all the other times to duke it out at the Coliseum--never once had he thought of coming to the cathedral. Perhaps subconsciously he had thought it pointless to visit the temple of a dying religion that probably had no actual basis in fact. It wasn't that he wasn't religious--the true Emil had been a pious follower of the Church of Martel, that much he remembered while growing up in Palmacosta. But finding out that he was in fact something of a god in and of himself may have killed any desire he would have had to visit the church, much less pray. Who did one pray to when one was a god?

There had been a church of not-so-comparable size in Palmacosta, built up nice of all stone, no wood like the village churches elsewhere. There were even stained glass windows. Upon entering the cathedral, the church in Palmacosta looked like a run down shack with the eaves falling down around it. The cathedral was built up of marble, not just any old rock, it had pillars, actual gold on the altar stone, real benches instead of mats to sit on, the windows were huge, and were all made of stained glass that depicted various scenes of Martel's teachings. The sunlight pouring through those magnificent windows made the interior look as if he'd walked into a dream. There was no way this place could be the slightest bit real.

His eyes cast around for Lloyd, but there was a flash of pink, and abruptly he was met with the sight of Presea. She was carrying a heavy log, dragging it along the floor as if it weighed no more than a stuffed animal. Though she didn't look very different than how she would two years from now, there was a particular aspect of her that struck Emil: her eyes. Like Colette's they were dark, bottomless ... empty. Shivers ran down his spine. What was wrong with them? He stepped further into the cathedral, down the nave, toward where Lloyd huddled with Genis and Raine, cooking up a plan. Behind him he heard the dragging of wood against marble, the swinging of the huge cathedral doors. The frantic whispering stopped once he was within earshot, and Lloyd, the man who was known to be friendly to a fault, looked at him with cold eyes and a jagged frown.

"What do you want?" Not even the times when Lloyd had been an enemy had there been such an icy and venomous tone in his voice.

For a split second, Emil almost stopped where he stood, the old timidness creeping back up. But he took a few more steps before he finally did stop. Lloyd, looking rather haggard and travel-worn (to put it mildly) appeared no better than a stray street dog who would fight at the slightest sign of a potential threat, not counting any real ones. Emil took in a deep breath before he answered.

"I ... Why are you guys trying to get into the castle?" It was an honest enough question.

Lloyd's eyes narrowed. "Why do you wanna know? Are you one of the king's knights?"

The dual swordsman could be quite clever at times, but Emil had to make an actual effort not to slap his forehead with his palm.

"Do I look like a knight to you?" For one thing, he had no real armor ...

"He could be a mercenary," Two-years-younger Genis spoke for the first time, eyeing Emil's getup suspiciously. Well, to be fair, a Centurion's taste in fashion was considerably different than what humans, elves and half-elves would be.

Surprisingly, it was Raine who stopped the suspicious slathering of words.

"There's no need to be so defensive." She said levelly, stepping up to Emil. "Our friend is sick, and we need to see the King."

At once Emil looked to Colette. "Sick" would describe all the strange behavior she had been exhibiting--wings out at all times, kicking dogs, indifference to her surroundings but for the last, and those bottomless, disturbing eyes ... The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"You mean Colette? What's wrong with her?"

There was a mental shout that sent Emil reeling, more of feeling of the mind rather than words. Ratatosk's anger at the senseless wording--_you're not supposed to know her yet!_--sent every nerve Emil had blazing. The cathedral was swimming in unfocused imagery, the one clear picture one of Lloyd wearing a face of surprise and preparing to draw his weapons. If Emil wasn't careful, he really could have Lloyd as an enemy.

"How do you know her name!" Lloyd demanded. "If you're a spy, you're doing a pretty pathetic job."

"I'm not a spy!" Emil protested sheepishly. He sighed, shoulders bowing as if under a great weight. Finally, he said, "Of course I know the Chosen of Sylvarant. I'm from Sylvarant."

"What?" Genis asked, his voice barely audible. "How did you ... get to Tethe'alla?"

"I'd like to know that myself." Emil murmured softly. Maybe Ratatosk was right. Maybe it would have been better to get back to Aster and remain as uninvolved as he possibly could. Was it a choice of the lesser of two evils? Help Aster, and leave any issues with Lloyd's wide circle of friends to fester like an infected wound? But no one died, and they were all emotionally healthy. If there was a problem two years from now, it wasn't with Lloyd; all had been genuinely concerned when doubt was cast on his name.

But this wasn't that time. This was in the past, and the act of merely existing here altered the time stream nonetheless. With a wry smile, Emil wondered: what would they think if they knew the Summon Spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree stood here before them?

"Let's leave that alone for now." Raine's voice broke Emil from his reverie. She turned her gaze on him, as sternly as he ever remembered seeing her. "If you're truly from Sylvarant, are you sure you want to know what's wrong with Colette?"

"Absolutely." Emil said with no hesitation. "I might be able to help."

There was something wry and sarcastic in Ratatosk's mind lingering in his own:

_Exspheres are terrible things, aren't they?_

Emil never knew much about Exspheres. In his memories of Palmacosta there was a man who once told him that the Desians wore them, and they forced the people at the human ranches to make them. Little crimson stones that amplified people's powers beyond reckoning.

So why had it never occurred to anyone before that the Cruxis Crystal, so revered by the Church of Martel, was actually an evolved form of Exsphere?

How ironic, Emil remembered thinking sourly, that they would tell him this, the truth behind the Chosen's journey of regeneration, the lie that it was, in the very heart of the Tethe'allan Church? He also remembered, as Raine told him that every time Colette released a seal she would lose a part of what made her human, the paltry explanation she fed Emil and Marta once when they flew in the skies with the Rheairds. He flashed back to the little boy in Asgard: "You have no idea what the Chosen went through!" Raine finished this eloquent explanation with the tale of the angels wanting to claim the now soulless Colette as the vessel for the Goddess Martel. Upon Sheena's telling of how they were researching the Chosen's Cruxis Crystal at the Imperial Research Academy, they decided to come to Tethe'alla, with hopes of using its more advanced technology to cure her.

Looking at Colette now, the truth of the burden she had borne laid bare ... Emil wanted so desperately to run up and hug her and bury his face in her shoulder and just cry himself hoarse. She was so happy and bubbly and caring ... and all this time he had no idea ... he had no idea ... with the animosity Marta had held toward the angel floating before him, the knowledge of what happened on the journey of regeneration would absolutely destroy her. Marta still couldn't forgive Colette for causing the destruction of Palmacosta, but the guilt of what the Chosen herself endured for them, the people of Sylvarant ... it would eat away at her like a pack of so many ravenous monsters. Not for the first time, he was glad Marta hadn't traveled back with him.

Instead of running up to hug Colette, Emil blinked, frowned, and clenched his fists at his sides. The gears in his mind were turning, and turning quickly. Tethe'alla was studying the Chosen's Cruxis Crystal in the Imperial Research Academy in Sybak. That might be the only way to find out what was wrong with Colette and cure her. Seeing Colette like this ... Emil didn't know her well, but he knew her well enough. He wanted to see Colette as herself again. Not this violent demon-angel who kicked dogs and threw people across the city without good reason. Ratatosk's voice was wavering in his mind.

_I don't think that's a good idea--!_

But Emil ignored it, took a deep breath, and said to Lloyd,

"You don't need to go to the castle. I can help you."

"How?" Genis demanded suspiciously. The little half-elf had not changed much in the two years between now and the future. Emil continued.

"I can take you to Sybak, where they're studying Tethe'alla's Chosen's Cruxis Crystal."

Lloyd then proceeded to huddle with Genis and Raine, considering. Should they deviate from what Sheena told them to do? In the end they decided (albeit reluctantly) that acting now and curing Colette was better than waiting around for the King to get better and to go see him. By that time the angels of Cruxis could catch up with them to make Colette Martel's vessel. Lloyd's reddish brown eyes locked with Emil's green ones.

"Okay ... take us to Sybak."

Happiness welled up inside Emil, despite the way Ratatosk grumbled in his mind. It was true, Lloyd, Raine, and Genis looked tentative, but as long as they were traveling with him again, he could pretend there never was any time travel, and that they all were friends. The motley crew proceeded in a single file line outside the cathedral, with Emil in the lead.

They came to the square of the royal quarter, just outside the castle. Emil led them down the staircases, toward the main gates. On the way out of the city, something that Emil completely forgot about turned up--Aster approached him from a knot of townsfolk, away from the Elemental Laboratory. He was smiling broadly, waving his hands in the air, as sunny as he ever was.

"Hey, Emil! I got the okay--" Aster stopped just a few feet short of Emil, eyes fixed on the small crowd of people following Emil down the stairs. Curious, he quirked a brow, asking his living reflection, "Who are these people? Friends of yours?"

Aster's question was drowned out in Lloyd and his friends' loud shock. They exclaimed, chattering rapidly, remarking on how Emil and Aster did not just look alike; they were identical, practically twins. At first it was just amazement at the fact of the scientist and the swordsman being mirrors of flesh, when it all died down as Raine murmured under her breath. By all means none should have heard, but under the immense volume of surprise, it was loud and clear.

"Emil could be lying. Is he perhaps Tethe'allan, trying to lure us into some trap?"

"Professor, what do you mean?" Lloyd demanded, but he kept a wary eye on Emil just the same.

"The other boy's clothes are not what a Sylvaranti would wear. And they're identical, perhaps twins. This could be a ploy to capture Colette, and perhaps execute her to prevent Tethe'alla's decline through the regeneration ritual."

Lloyd threw a dirty look at Emil, and the blond froze in place. Never had such a cold, venomous look worn Lloyd's face before. Lloyd the Great, the hero who had rebuilt Luin, saved Colette, reunited the worlds, and germinated the new World Tree, now looked as if he wanted nothing more than to run Emil through. His hands were trembling, clenched into fists. Nothing but rage burned in those eyes.

"You bastard," Lloyd spat, though he made no move toward Emil. He would not begin a brawl in the street; that would endanger not only himself and the Sage siblings, but Colette in her current state would injure or perhaps even kill any who drew too near. "I won't let you or any other Tethe'allan get anywhere near Colette!"

Genis oh-so-eloquently added, "And that's a slimy trick, pretending to be from Sylvarant to get us to trust you! You're as bad as the Desians!"

"We should go back to the castle." Raine interjected, as if her student had not threatened Emil. "That Presea girl we saw was carrying something; perhaps we can 'help.' "

"Right, let's go!"

Emil never would remember seeing them leave. Instead, one moment they were standing before him, and the next they were gone, replaced by an empty stone staircase. Murmurs of the sea of townsfolk eddied around them, but he paid them no heed. He hung his head, his vision blurring, throat hitched. He blinked the tears back, clearing his voice.

"Great. Now they hate me."

"What was that all about?" Aster asked, quite confused. "Were they Sylvaranti, too?"

Emil nodded. "Yeah." Aster opened his mouth to ask another question, but Emil beat him in answering, "They came because they want to ask the King to use the Imperial Research Academy to help find a cure for their Chosen."

Aster thought for a moment, then shrugged. "If they do get permission from the King to come to Sybak, we'll just explain things to them there, that you're a bona fide Sylvaranti."

Emil looked at Aster, incredulous. "You're awfully unconcerned for Sylvarant's Chosen being here in Tethe'alla."

"It sounds cruel," Aster said as they made their way back to the inn to prepare to leave for Sybak, "but if the Chosen is here, they can't complete the regeneration ritual. As long as they don't go back to Sylvarant, Tethe'alla is safe." After a moment's consideration, while they walked up the stairs of the inn, he added, "I wonder how they got here. Doesn't seem like they used the Otherworldly Gate."

The Renegades, a mysterious organization that originally inspired the whole kill-the-Chosen-of-Sylvarant-to-protect-Tethe'alla plan, had a method of going back and forth between the worlds that didn't seem like the Gate's doing, but despite the shared technology of Exspheres, the Renegades didn't seem to want to share their method of inter-dimensional travel.

Once they were inside their room, there wasn't much to pack. They'd been here only for so long, and they had traveled lightly. The heaviest things they had on them were probably their weapons. Nonetheless there were still odds and ends to tidy up, so as they did that, a sudden thought occurred to Emil.

Or rather, to Ratatosk.

_Hey, can we make a trip to the Temple of Darkness before we go?_

Emil knew what was on Ratatosk's mind--the purpose of going to the Temple of Darkness would be to retrieve Centurion Tenebrae's core, to begin racking up their insurance against suddenly losing their powers courtesy of time travel. Emil wouldn't ordinarily mind that; he missed the Centurion of Darkness terribly, and Tenebrae was the first Centurion Emil really got to know. Aqua making a giant sea turtle knock him around did not count.

_If it were just us, then yes, but ... _

_But what?_

_There's Aster. We can't just make a day long detour! It'd take us two or three days to get to Sybak then, and I want to see if Lloyd will go there to save Colette from her Cruxis Crystal!_

_Of course Lloyd will go there! He can handle himself--they're all alive, well and happy and good two years from now, right? We need to worry about ourselves!_

_I don't want to betray Aster's trust like that._

_This ties right into his original mana-monster thesis._

_It's that very habit of yours, doing things like this on your own, that made me want to seal you in the first place!_

That shut Ratatosk up.

_You're going to regret this later ..._

_I know._


	9. The Road Ahead

A/N: Will try to fix Corel Painter so I can start painting digitally again. On another note, in FFT: WotL, I started a new game with Ramza named as Ratatosk. I will use the Orator's Tame skill to build myself an army of monsters that _I can name._ I will also hire generics named after Emil, Marta, etc.

--

Part IX: The Road Ahead

--

_You're going to regret this later ..._

Those same words echoed boundlessly in Emil's mind, even though Ratatosk was not doing much talking. What the gentler self decided went against their very nature as the Summon Spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree. Their first concern was supposed to be the safeguarding of their power, thus by extension the powers of their Centurions. And yet Emil would ignore the Centurions' cores in order to pursue Lloyd and his company, people who would be Emil's future friends but at present were not. If anything, they were comparable to enemies. This Ratatosk fumed about non-verbally, a constant smoldering burn in Emil's consciousness.

Everything was going well. They had left the town, on the packed dirt road leading northeast toward the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge. It was midmorning, the air crisp and fresh, the sun shining strongly with hardly a cloud blotting the deep azure majesty of the skies above. Upon looking up into those boundless skies, Emil wanted to fly again, be it on the wings of a Rheaird or a monster companion. On that thought, Emil would become downhearted. He really, really missed the monster companions he had forged pacts with and raised himself. He wondered how Tierra was doing. The little chimera was due to evolve into a manticore sometime.

They had gone hardly ten minutes out of the Imperial Capital of Meltokio when Aster stopped abruptly, staring down at the wolf that shadowed Emil's footsteps. Titan had to wait outside the city, but when his master returned, he acted as if he were a faithful hound from the day he was born, not a savage wolf who once preyed on travelers. Immediately Emil was uncomfortable with the way Aster examined the monster. Titan himself was actually curious--perhaps the two people smelled similar, and certainly he had noticed how they looked identical.

"Aster," Emil began tentatively, "What's up?"

Aster bent in front of the wolf, a small frown on his face. Still Titan showed no sign of taking any hostile action against him, acting like a well behaved dog. Without hesitation he put his hand forward. Titan sniffed it, gave it a small lick, and allowed Aster to pat his head, to scratch him behind the ears. Aster's eyes averted to Emil's.

"I thought something was up with you. You might be able to help me with my research."

Somehow Emil was able to keep the nervousness from his voice.

"What research is that?" For Aster never before specified what research he had been doing prior to his study into "Sylvaranti martial arts styles."

"The relationship between mana and monsters. All monsters have mana of their own; some of them can even channel it to use magic. They seem to be able to use their mana outward more effectively than half-elf and even some elf mages can. Why is this? I've just been doing preliminary research, but I've found nothing I didn't know already."

"So how could I help you? Just what are you going to do next?"

"You have to ask? You can make pacts with monsters. Catching them and studying them would be infinitely easier if they bond with you. I already planned to ask the Director if Richter and I could embark on a field study sometime. With luck, perhaps I could find the answer before Tethe'alla began to decline."

Emil's stomach dropped into queasy hell. Mentally he fumed at Ratatosk and his decision to make a pact with a monster right in front of Aster. Granted, there probably would be no other way to make pacts with monsters without Aster eventually finding out, but now things were very complicated. Very. This provided Aster a way in which he could actually conduct his research faster and more accurately. He would find his way to Ratatosk, and end up dying that much faster.

"Would the answer to that question really be so important?" Inwardly Emil knew this was a stupid thing to ask, of course it was important!

Aster reiterated the thought almost word for word. "Of course it's important! Monsters are absent from the flourishing world and ravage the declining world. Why is this? Punishment from the evil Desians and salvation from the Goddess Martel, to be sure, but there has to be something more. I can feel it."

Sybak's best and brightest. Of course.

_This doesn't mean he's going to die._

_How can you be sure? He's gonna die faster than last time--_

_Things are different this time._

_How so?_

_We are here, with him. We won't let him die, not even if we have to fight Ratatosk in order to do it._

Emil paused for a moment, blinking. Wait ...

_So, you already fought me once ... and you want to fight yourself--who is just like you in terms of violence and such--again? You're weird._

_Ah-ah, but it won't turn out like you think._

_What do you mean?_

_What do you think I've been doing all this time you're prancing in the meadow? I've been working on a plan. The Ratatosk of this time will be powerless before us. Because we will bond with the Centurions, reducing his power. Right now they're all dormant, but bound to him._

_But if we're all the Summon Spirit Ratatosk, how can one bond take from another? I don't get it._

_We couldn't reach our Centurions, right? Because we haven't bonded with them yet. For the time being we still have our powers, but I don't expect it to last long as time passes and the time stream adjusts with how we affected it. One of those things is our existence. What matters now is who has the power of Summon Spirit Ratatosk. Now that we are here, there are two Ratatosks. There can be only one._

_But if we end up having to fight him, won't we kill ourselves, too?_

_No. It doesn't work that way. If it did, time travel would end up destroying everything. The King of Summon Spirits, Origin, manages things like time and space. As long as the natural roles are still carried out, inconveniences like that don't apply; Origin's power prevents that. Of course that exception is not for humans, half-elves, or elves. Kill a mortal in the past, they die in the future. But we are a Summon Spirit. Origin will treat us more kindly._

_Wow, you sure know a lot about it._

_You do have to prepare for every eventuality when you're a Summon Spirit._

_Time travel is an eventuality?_

_LIke Tenebrae said, it's difficult for mortals to accomplish, but for beings like Summon Spirits, it does happen from time to time. Without Origin's direct interference, all they can do is relive however many years they've been sent back into the time stream. So far as I know, though, no one, not even a Summon Spirit, has been sent to the future._

That was something Emil was secretly glad of. If you were sent into the past, living a few or hundreds of years over again was no hardship, since only Summon Spirit like beings ever wandered the time stream, according to Ratatosk. But if one were sent to the future, there was no way to make up for lost time.

"So, Emil? Will you help me?" Aster's question brought Emil out of his thoughts.

Emil knew what he was going to say before he even considered the question. He took a deep breath. This was the first step in undoing the wrong he had committed that day, two years in the future.

"Yes, I'll help you."

"Good! Now let's get back to Sybak. I can ask the Director if we can go on that field study after I report to him."

Emil brightened up after that. Perhaps he would get to see Lloyd and everyone else in Sybak, and have a chance to explain what really happened. There was also the plus of making pacts with monsters openly once again. Goodness knew how many odd stares they would get every time they left their huge knot of monsters outside the cities. Monsters, even bound ones, made townsfolk uneasy. Well, putting it mildly, anyway. However, in Sybak, where monsters were being researched, he wouldn't get as many odd looks.

-

Right before they had crossed the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge, Aster had insisted that Emil forge a pact with another monster. He led Emil down to the beach near the bridge, where aquatic monsters often gathered. Surely enough, sea monsters leapt from the frothy waves to attack. Altogether, Emil, Aster, and Titan exterminated the majority of the monsters, leaving one for the lord of all monsters to forge a pact with. The sleek, dark body of the water drake glistened in the sunlight as it floated in the air, charging. Emil without hesitation cast the pact magic.

"Her name is Ripplescale." He didn't think he needed to tell Aster that she was a water type.

Funnily enough, Aster's first question about Ripplescale was whether or not she could carry a person and fly them to and fro. Emil explained that no, Ripplescale used her wings mainly to swim, so she has partially lost her ability to fly. She can fly a few feet above ground, but nothing beyond that. Aster expressed disappointment, but quickly regained enthusiasm at the thought of capturing a giant bird or a dragon monster. Seeing that almost maniacal glint in the scientist's eyes, Emil began to feel that Richter was scarily accurate in his description of Aster.

Other than that, the return trip to Sybak wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The Grand Tethe'alla Bridge was an amazing sight to behold, but walking across it was a lengthy process that had Emil wondering if this was the reason Aster wanted to know if Ripplescale could fly them places. She followed them in the ocean under the bridge, her dark body darting in and out of the water as they made progress. The sight made Emil miss Eridanus terribly. He'd always had a fondness for the orca, as that was the first aquatic monster he'd bonded with.

He remembered what Ratatosk said as the time stream "adjusted" to their presence and how they affected it.

_Ratatosk ... will that mean ... all the monsters I've bonded with won't know me anymore?_

_Yes. But don't worry. You can find them and get to know them again._

_... Does this go for human relationships, too?_

Ratatosk did not answer right away.

_... Yes. As time passes, all the people we've known will not know us. But we will still remember._

_... ! B-but--Marta--she'll forget us?_

_She won't forget. She never knew us._

The world froze. Emil halted on the bridge, staggering as if he'd been stabbed through. His emerald green eyes were wide, his breathing was shallow, and his hands trembled. Torrents of images and memories of Marta flooded his mind, of her fighting, of her smiling, of her calling his name. The sweet girl who had enough courage to turn against her own father when she believed he was in the wrong. The girl who looked delicate but was as tough as nails. The girl who saved his core from the Vanguard.

The girl whom he branded with a fake core in order to protect himself.

The girl who told him she loved him.

_No ... no ... after everything we've been through together ... for all of it to be erased ... that can't be!_

_Do you think I want her to forget us, too?! There's nothing we can do about it. Just be glad that we can still befriend her when we do meet her._

_You mean we'll meet her even if we stop Aster's death, which would stop Richter from running off with our core?_

_Of course. She lives in Palmacosta, right?_

_But it won't be the same! Even if we save Aster, we can't repeat our journey together!_

_Isn't that in everybody's best interests? Aster lives, Richter won't break the seal on Ginnungagap, the cores will never fall into the hands of the Vanguard, which means the Blood Purge would never have happened, and Marta's father never would have lost himself in the natural chaos of Solum's core. Advantages, one after the other. Can you say otherwise?_

_I ..._

"Emil, are you all right?"

Emil blinked. He hadn't realized he fell on one knee, so lost in thought he was. He allowed Aster to help him back to his feet. The shock of what Ratatosk had said left his limbs feeling like lead. The end of the bridge was nigh, and Sybak itself only a short ways ahead. Everything of his past ... erased, a new future written ... there were bad things in that journey, sure ... but there were also good things.

"Yeah ... I'm just a little tired. Let's go."

-

Parting with his monster companions wasn't something that Emil did often, and he only did so when they were in either Tenebrae or Marta's care. So when they reached Sybak and Aster asked Emil if he could examine Ripplescale and Titan for some mana testing, he was very reluctant. He kept looking back at the monsters he'd just bonded with. He felt their thoughts; Titan would go with anything Emil decided. Ripplescale was iffy, but she would not resist. Finally, with a wrenching twist to his heartstrings, Emil allowed Aster to take the two monsters to a laboratory. In the meantime, Aster told him he'd have permission to meander about the Academy. Well, they were identical, so ...

He didn't want to go back to the dorm. There was no point. So, guilty conscience weighing heavily on him, Emil decided to go to the basement lab, where Richter worked. No one stopped him from going downstairs, to the basement. He attributed this to his looking like Aster. There really was no way for other people to know whether or not they swapped clothes for the day.

Slowly Emil opened the heavy door. Inside was just as he remembered it. Cold, dank ... dark. Kate was not here, gone from this lab. There were other basement laboratories, perhaps she was sent elsewhere on assignment. In the dark it was hard to see, but Emil found Richter standing, leaning on the counter, sipping a mug of coffee, lost in thought. Emil approached the half-elf with small steps.

"Uhm, Richter?"

Richter's eyes flickered up from the floor, locking with Emil's. He stopped, frozen, like a frightened deer. After a moment he took a few more steps. Richter took a large gulp of his coffee before he placed the mug down. He walked across the room, pulling up two stools. He gestured for Emil to sit down on one of them. Silent, Emil obliged.

"Emil." Richter said, arms folded over his chest. "I wanted to talk to you."

"You're not still upset over what happened before, right?" Emil's brow was knit together worriedly. Richter gave him a look.

"I don't think you're out to get me. What Aster said before is probably true. Anyway, I want to know: are you really from Sylvarant?"

Emil paused, considering. He still had memories of growing up in Palmacosta. Did that mean he truly was from Sylvarant? Well, technically he was Tethe'allan, since the Ginnungagap lay beneath the Otherworldly Gate. What should he tell Richter?

"I grew up in Sylvarant, anyway. Why?"

Richter adjusted his glasses. "You're a human and yet you can use magic as if you were an elf. You are familiar with at least one Tethe'allan city." Here Emil bit his tongue, remembering how badly he'd guarded his prior knowledge. The red-haired man continued, "And you have the exact same genetic makeup as Aster. This can't be pure coincidence."

Fear jolted Emil's heart. Richter wanted to know why all of those applied to Emil. Why could he use mana? Why could he use magic? Above all, why did he look like Aster? He frowned.

"What're you getting at, Richter?"

"The Desians are probably more technologically advanced than Sylvarant, perhaps even more so than us. Even we can't manufacture Exspheres like they can. What I'm trying to say, Emil, is ... I believe you might be a human weapon created by the Desians."

Relief spread in Emil's nerves. It wasn't a good thing to be thought of as what Richter suggested, but at least he deduced nothing about Emil stealing Aster's identity ... not that he could. Emil's hands curled into tight fists.

"If I was, what would you do with me? Use me for Tethe'alla? Imprison me here for research? Or destroy me?"

Richter frowned, a sad look coming across his face. "I wouldn't wish any of those fates on you. This much is plain: at least some of the Desians are going to come for you, sooner or later. You are not safe here. Tethe'alla would also seek to use you for its own benefit."

"You're in contact with Desians? I thought they were only in the declining world!"

Richter donned a wry smile. "One of the Desians comes here every so often. His name is Aurum, and his leader, a Grand Cardinal, teamed up with the Pope of the Church of Martel to create a Cruxis Crystal. I don't know why the Desians want a Cruxis Crystal, but Aurum said that the Desians have a profound interest in you." The smile vanished, his demeanor changed into something more serious.

"Emil, you need to get out of here. They know you're in Sybak. If you stay here, they'll come for you."

Emil thought for a moment, considering. "If they can come between the worlds, would it matter where I am?"

Richter's next words completely threw off not only Emil, but also Ratatosk.

"It would matter to me."

Emil looked up, an expression of pure shock on his face.

"What?"

Richter heaved a deep sigh.

"I don't know. Maybe it's just you look like Aster, but ... I wouldn't want you to fall into their hands."

An idea occurred to Emil. "Hey. Aster said he'd ask the Director if he can go on that field study about the relationship between monsters and mana. He wants to take us with him. Do you think that would do it?"

There was a long, drawn-out pause as Richter drank from his mug of coffee. The coldness of the lab was suffocating, stifling. The red-haired half-elf considered for a few minutes before he put his mug down.

"Yes, I would."

-

Emil had immense difficulty remembering how it had happened at all. How it happened so fast, a mere colorless blur. In universities in general, he'd had the impression that there was a tremendous delay in a request and stacks upon stacks of detailed paperwork involved, especially for something as dangerous as a monster field study.

But literally two days after they returned, Aster came running to find Emil, speaking with urgency but looking as if his birthday had come early.

"Emil! C'mon! We gotta go get Richter and get out of here!" Comically, the monsters he'd been studying--Ripplescale and Titan--were loping after him, which probably attributed to the terrified screaming of other people in the academy.

Emil, cozy in the dorm, had been reading--actually reading--and now he scrambled to find his shoes and broadsword, blubbering to Aster as he grabbed his dual spinner,

"What? Why? Did something happen?"

Aster smiled sweetly. "Suffice it to say that we're leaving for our field study early."

"Aster. _What happened?"_

The ridiculous grin only grew wider. "I'm not at liberty to share that information!" He sang, unlocking the blades on his spinner, checking to make sure they rotated properly and at full speeds. A chill of fear ran down Emil's spine as he strapped his sword to his belt. He felt he was probably better off not knowing.

"Well, okay," Aster said as they tore down the stairs on the way to Richter's basement, "it involves the library, a book about Mithos the Hero (only five copies of which are supposedly still in existence), and Titan's canine instinct to mark the scope of his territory."

Emil paled, and he almost stopped running.

_Did he just imply that our wolf soiled a valuable textbook of the academy's?_

_I think he did._

Aster never stopped smiling.

-

In a whirlwind of flurried activity fifteen minutes later, the three of them plus two monsters--one of which looked absurdly proud of himself--stood on the open dirt road leading north, toward the Gaoracchian Forest. The Forest of Cold Shadows. The Forest of Death. Not that they were going that way ... right?

"Okay." Richter sounded unnaturally calm. "Not that I'm complaining--it's nice to get some fresh air--but this means we can't return to Sybak indefinitely?"

Aster pondered the question for only a moment before he nodded and chirped, "Yep!"

Richter covered his eyes with a palm, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Aster laughed at the sight.

"Oh c'mon! It's not all bad. This way we have no time limit on our field study!"

"True." Richter replied. "But just where were you planning to start? We don't have anything to go on."

"Oh, but I do." Aster said cheerily. "Summon Spirits control the elements, fine. But I believe there is also a Summon Spirit--or multiple ones--that oversee the ecosystems of monsters."

"What? Really?" Emil gaped, shocked. Aster nodded.

"You learn a few things when you talk to elves."

Just like how humans were occasionally allowed entrance into Heimdall, the village of the elves, with the king's permission, with the elf elder's permission, elves were allowed to go beyond their village into the world of humans. Apparently one such elf, knowledgeable about monsters, had been in town and spoken with Aster.

Emil didn't know whether to be worried or relieved about that. His shoulders slumped.

_Great ... now I'll miss a chance to talk to Lloyd._

_They can't go back to Sylvarant, at least not right away. We're bound to run into him again sometime soon, so keep your chin up._

_Are you trying to cheer me up?_

_Do you have any idea how annoying it is for you to moping around all the time?_

_... Not really._

_Thought so._

"Well then," Aster began, slipping a Holy Symbol on his wrist and a topaz ring on his finger, "to the road ahead!"

Richter and Emil, somewhat less enthusiastic, nodded as Aster led the way.


	10. Jewel of the Rich Earth

A/N: Playable Aster with a dual spinner would have been so much win. Downloadable content, Bamco, downloadable content! I would so pay for that!

--

Part X: Jewel of the Rich Earth

--

They had no real heading. Emil suspected that Aster was just going on a goose chase to have an excuse for Emil to forge pacts with more monsters. Their roster was already full with Titan and Ripplescale, so the multiple monsters that joined them afterwards were left with the nearest Katz camp. Katz were all over the place.

They had to get as far away from Sybak as possible, and they had crossed the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge. Rather, Aster had crossed the bridge, and Emil and Richter had to cross the ocean under it with Ripplescale. Emil had no problem with it--he was a fine swimmer--but Richter was even more spiteful of water than a cat was of paw-deep water. So perhaps it was a good thing that the water drake had plowed through the ocean faster than a speedboat.

"You guys doing okay?" Aster asked sunnily, jogging down to the beach next to Titan. Emil gave a nervous laugh, and Richter said nothing, glaring death with his eyes.

"Okay!" Aster unrolled a map of Tethe'alla. "Summon Spirits rest in the seals of the world. The two seals near the Meltokio region are the Temples of Earth and Darkness. Which shall we visit first?"

"Just what are you hoping to find there?" Richter asked, brow quirked.

"The monster-Summon Spirit."

"Is there such a thing? How would we find it?"

"Well, you're a half-elf, for one thing ... you could sense it for us."

Whatever hope Richter had borne for the crazy in Aster to tone down over the years died promptly right then and there. Died, and the carcass picked to clean bone by a colony of ravenous red warrior ants. Clicking mandibles tearing miniscule bits of flesh hummed in Richter's mind's ears.

"If I could ask a monster, it'd be so much easier." Emil said suddenly. "But I can't. The angels of Cruxis control the appearance of monsters."

_Arrogant of them,_ Ratatosk growled, _to assume my role! After they betrayed me!_

Emil didn't know what Ratatosk grumbled about (for the betrayal), but he did know how unfortunate it was for the appearance of monsters to be artificially controlled. They couldn't maintain a natural ecosystem that way.

"The Tower of Salvation." Aster said, staring at the white structure that bridged the earth and heavens. "Monsters appear in the declining world ... the Tower appears in the flourishing world ... They exist on shifted dimensions ..."

"Aster," Richter said, "What do you think?"

Aster snapped his fingers. "Do you think that maybe the Tower of Salvation is ... shielding us from monsters? That monsters exist on both planes of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, and return to the plane of life from a shadowed parallel when the Tower appears and disappears?"

"I have no idea what you just said." Emil said.

"Some scholars say that our existence is in dimensions. Maybe the monsters and their ecosystems are kept in a kind of stasis depending on the Tower's appearance."

Richter replied, "That might be true, or maybe the Tower's appearance instantaneously shifts the monsters of one world to another."

Emil extracted himself from the discussion, heading around the beach to collect driftwood. Though their departure from Sybak was rushed, they had supplies aplenty, and he had a feeling that Titan was due to change form soon. He felt a pang of longing for Sial, the first wolf he had ever befriended. Sial had been the best Fenrir he'd ever had.

No other monster friend had ever run down a cliff to save Emil. The black and blue wolf had exhausted himself casting repeated healing artes. Those monster grimoires were a real investment. Speaking of which ... Emil noticed they had no monster grimoires on them. They had Richter, who knew magic and healing artes, but he and Aster knew no formal magic. That could be dangerous, depending on one person to heal. What if something happened to Richter and he couldn't heal?

"I hate to interrupt you guys," Emil called to the two scientists, and he was not at all sorry to stop their discussion, "but we have a problem. We don't have any monster grimoires."

Aster and Richter's eyes widened, and they said in unison,

"Monster _what?"_

"Grimoires." Emil said, somewhat irritably. "Spellbooks. Richter's our only healer right now."

"Who on earth," Aster said, "would have such a thing? We can't just waltz up to a merchant and ask, 'hey, do you have any monster spellbooks?"

"Well, no," Emil admitted, "but Katz can synthesize them. We just need to stop by Meltokio, buy the ingredients, and have them make some." He always wondered why, in his own time, everyday shops had monster grimoires aplenty. Who else would be raising an army of monsters?

They were nearest to Meltokio, anyway, and as Tethe'alla's capital, trade was probably at an all-time high. Katz, like the Kowz and Penguinists, were probably something like half-monster, which might explain their ability to synthesize spellbooks for them. He remembered Genis's story of an old man who dressed like a Katz, but he couldn't fool them.

In the streets of Meltokio, there were merchants and vendors aplenty, and it would be no hardship to procure the items necessary for a monster grimoire: primarily ink and paper. Emil remembered having to actually hunt down monsters for the ink and grimoire pages, though he wasn't sure why monsters would have bits of paper on them.

With the vast amount of Gald Emil had happened to have, the Katz of Meltokio were quite happy to synthesize some spellbooks for them. The most important were those healing spells (Undine's Whisper, Affection), where offensive magic was not as high a priority but a bonus nonetheless. All in all, it took most of the day to synthesize the grimoires and have Titan and Ripplescale learn them.

--

_Titan learned First Aid!_

_Titan learned Heal!_

_Titan learned Recover!_

_Titan learned Turbulence!_

_Ripplescale learned First Aid!_

_Ripplescale learned Heal!_

_Ripplescale learned Recover!_

_Ripplescale learned Splash!_

--

"So what did the elves say when you talked to them?"

"They're pretty laid back. To them, the world changes around them, but their ways of life do not. They find it pretty fascinating."

"What made you think summon spirits controlled monster ecosystems?"

"Well, haven't you ever wondered about them? How every monster has a role, no matter how big or small, like links in a long chain?"

"Yeah, but not that deeply ..."

"And their deep connection to mana is even more refined than ours. They can use magic without circles or words, whereas we require both, and even other ingredients sometimes.

"If summon spirits control basic elements like fire, wind, ice, water, and such, then what about other natural systems of the world? Ecosystems have to be a large part of that. The scriptures of the Church of Martel state that the Great Motherland, Derris-Kharlan, rained mana fragments upon this land, giving it life. It may be true that this planet did not originate with mana as it source material."

"You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Yeah. At first it was only my job, but now it's become something of my passion."

"Besides teasing Richter?"

"Hahaha. Yeah, besides teasing Richter."

"So, those 'other natural systems of the world' ... care to clarify exactly what you mean?"

"Things like oceanic and wind currents ... thunderstorms, snowing, seasons ... droughts, floods ... just weather in general. There must be a spirit for everything of the natural world."

"I think you're right."

"So do I. We still haven't decided which Temple to visit first."

"The closest ones are the Temples of Earth and Darkness."

"Hmm. I'd rather not have to climb the Fooji Mountains, plus Shadow's temple is said to be really, really dark. We'll go to the Temple of Earth. We only have to cross the river, and with Ripplescale, that's not a problem."

"Yeah, I agree."

--

There was a rather important point Emil had not brought up, or rather, it literally had slipped his mind. While the Temple of Earth was not a manmade temple in the sense, passage through it was one of the Goddess Martel's trials for her Chosen One, and thus required the Sorcerer's Ring to get through. Emil's Sorcerer's Ring was ... gone. He didn't know how it was gone. It must have been separated from his person when the Otherworldly Gate warped back in time.

Emil despaired. No Sorcerer's Ring meant no passage through any temple, and thus no Centurion for bonding. Ratatosk often warned that their powers would fade gradually, and they would know no differently until a crucial moment when great power was required, and they would not have it.

But Aster went right up to the strange device at the entrance of the temple and a ring on his finger glowed in resonance with the mana energy. The ring on his finger--the Sorcerer's Ring. Emil's jaw dropped.

"Where did you get a Sorcerer's Ring?"

"I liberated it."

Richter sighed. "Great, now we're gonna have the Church on our tails."

"Ah-ah. They don't know who took it."

A long, suffocating silence persisted.

Titan had the right idea as he led the procession through the temple. They were high up from the ground, a fall from the ledges entailed certain death in the dark depths of the abyss below. The wind howled, the tiniest sounds echoed painfully loudly, and the confined walking space made fighting monsters difficult. They crossed a rather rickety bridge that put everyone, even the monsters, on edge, and were further high strung when Aster used the Sorcerer's Ring--it generated a small earthquake.

"Haha! Hey, look! That pillar fell! We can pass!"

"Aster, quit it! You're gonna make us fall!"

"We're not gonna fall."

_"You're making earthquakes!"_

Somehow Richter managed not to panic. Emil marveled at the older half-elf's calmness in a situation where his best friend was generating earthquakes; strong enough to fell earthen pillars and definitely strong enough to make them fall. Titan was surefooted as a goat, leaping from ledge to ledge, Emil cautiously following his monster companion, and Aster giggling like a schoolgirl as he recklessly jumped from ledge to ledge. Richter took his time, going slowly and carefully.

These jumps made Emil remember something very important. When they all got a wider ledge where they could stand without worrying about falling down (provided there were no convenient earthquakes), he said,

"Uhm, do you guys ... have Exspheres?"

In unison, both Richter and Aster said flatly,

"No."

Oh, well, that was great. Wonderful. Then again, Tethe'allans attached Exspheres mainly to machines, not people. But that did not diminish the importance of having one. What if Aster's or Richter's deaths were caused by an accident? What if they fell, and without an Exsphere strengthening them enough to prevent a fatal wound? The morbid possibilities raced through Emil's mind.

"There's an Exsphere broker that travels around Tethe'alla." Aster said. "Vharley, I think his name was. I'll bet we can get some Exspheres from him."

"We'll do that when we get back to town." Emil replied. He didn't mention this, but if Desians were combing Tethe'alla--looking for him--then Exspheres would become that much more important. All Desians used Exspheres, and even forced humans at their human ranches to make them.

Checking out the broker was a good idea, but if they happened to run into any Desians, it couldn't hurt to take some from them if they survived the encounter. Which shouldn't be problem with a defunct summon spirit, two monsters with more undoubtedly on the way, and a half-elf with quite the arsenal of magic.

But still, even if the Desians thought Emil was a weapon, for what reason would they pursue and capture him? It was a disquieting thought.

-

"Here we are. That was one hell of a quake."

"Oh hush, Richter. It wasn't that bad."

Emil decided not to point out that the fall resulting from Aster's happy earthquake might have resulted in grievous injuries if Ripplescale and Titan hadn't been happy to break their fall ... and get hurt in the process. The monsters plus Richter's help healed their hurts, and the seal of the summon spirit of Earth was just ahead. Emil hadn't paid much attention on the seals; he was much too preoccupied with getting the Centurion's cores ahead of Lloyd.

As they passed the seal, breaking through the relatively soft earthen wall that led to Solum's chamber, Emil remembered talking to Sheena, expressing a desire to meet the other summon spirits, Origin not the least of them. He never did get a chance to meet them, and he doubted they would have paid him a visit in the Ginnungagap. If they'd had a chance, he would have gladly formed a pact with Sheena, so she could have summoned him anytime after the fact.

_What use is there in dwelling on the past? It's pointless as it is, but now you're dwelling on a past that_ no longer exists.

_Oh hush. Let me have my pity party. _

Ratatosk did not reply as Richter broke down the wall. Dust clouds churned up around their knees, sunlight pouring from the skies into the darker chamber ahead of them. Emil felt Solum's power, taut and strong, centered in his altar. Cautiously they moved forward into the gloom.

Fortunately, the floor did not start rumbling and falling in bits and pieces. Whatever that falling floor thing was, it was not established until people came here much later in the future. Emil wanted to obtain Solum's core and leave this place as quickly as possible. He didn't have very many fond memories here.

Aster, the scientist that began this crazy goose chase, eagerly went forward to take the glimmering golden brown jewel, shaped like a flower bud yet to bloom. Emil shouted, "Stop!" and ran forward, grabbing him by his long trench coat. Richter and Aster quirked their brows.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"That's--don't touch that! That's a Centurion's core. It's dormant right now."

"Centurion?" Richter tilted his head to one side. "You mentioned them before."

Emil nodded, suddenly uncomfortable. "Y-yeah ... they're like summon spirits, but they control the elements of monsters." He looked at Aster. "Like you said, their ecosystems. If you touch a Centurion's core like this, you'll be drawn into its natural chaos, and who knows what effect it'll have on you."

_Way to protect our identity._

_Like you did a stellar job._

_Hmph. Just hurry up and take the core already!_

Rolling his eyes at Ratatosk's trite remarks, Emil walked up to the altar, unchanged from its future form, except the core was in its rightful places. Carefully, he took the core in both his hands, cupping the teardrop shaped jewel. The power flooded within him, and a heavy, ancient power that smelled of the earth assaulted his mind. He fell to his knees, almost dropping the jewel.

**Who are you to wake a Centurion, so like to my master and not?**

Though it wasn't a vocal question, Aster and Richter sensed something, jolting as if they had been struck by lightning. The pulling power of the earth lay over them like a thick shroud.

Emil gasped in the suddenly thick and heady air. His eyes turned red.

**I am Lord Ratatosk! Awaken and obey me, Solum, Centurion of Earth!**

There were no more protests from Solum, and his core hatched, the glimmering earthen jewel hovering in the air. Emil's fingers closed over the perfect sphere engraved with the glyph of the earth, and Solum's influence instantaneously evaporated. His eyes changed, shifting quickly from red to green once again.

"How did you know?" Aster asked. "About the Centurions?"

Emil gave him a wry smile, placing the core in his bag.

"You learn a lot when you talk to elves."

_Well, it's not a_ complete_ lie._

Emil ignored it.

--

"They say elves used to be the masters of this world."

"Did they?"

"But that's not true, according to the elves. The elfish storyteller that lives in the peaks of Latheon Gorge once said that the world was ruled by fearsome beasts. While the elves were holed up in Heimdall, shielded by the Ymir Forest."

"Like when dinosaurs ruled the earth?"

"Not exactly. These monsters were different. They were intelligent, capable of actual speech. The elves were said to be quite friendly with them. It wasn't until the birth of humans that conflicts with these ancients arose. There was war everywhere. Not among humans and elves or even half-elves. Just between these monsters and humans. Elves refused to fight against them."

"Is that part of the Kharlan War?"

"So the elfish storyteller says. He has tapestries that tell the tales, and mana cloth woven from the mana leaf herb lasts a ridiculously long time."

"What happened to these monsters?"

"Extinct, obviously. But not entirely. There was a saying recorded in the storyteller's tales:

"We become small. We become stupid. Soon we will be nothing more than squealing game."

"You mean--"

"Yeah. The monsters of today are probably descendants of those great monsters."

"What were they called?"

"I'm not sure what the real name is, but the name that recurs in the most ancient records of the war say they were Inteligente, which is probably more of a description than a real name. I doubt that was what they called themselves.

"But the Intelegente were probably the origin of monsters."

_He's not entirely off the mark, you know._

_You mean these Inteligente helped you balance the mana, before they became monsters?_

_Yeah. I didn't create the Centurions until the Kharlan War reduced the Inteligente to monsters._

_Really? I didn't know that. I doubt even Raine knows that._

_Part of what killed them ... mana is necessary for life, so you might not think of it ... but if they absorbed too much mana, their bodies rejected it, and their capacity for rational thought dwindled to next to nothing._

_Wow._

_Dr. Balfour discovered this phenomenon and called it neural contamination._

_How do you know that?_

_Tenebrae. Whispering. At night._

_Ah._

--

By the time they emerged from Gnome's temple, the skies were stained red-orange, but it wasn't close to the horizon just yet. It was possible to reach Meltokio before or at nightfall if they marched quickly. Emil wished that Titan was bigger so one of them might ride him. Aster looked to be the most unused to traveling by foot. Nonetheless, they set out.

Monsters were no real obstacle, especially with Solum's power to boost Emil's defense power. He found himself wondering why Solum didn't put up more of a fight against bonding with him, when the general gist of it came to him: Centurions were created to obey, despite Aqua's rebellion. Since Emil was Ratatosk and had Ratatosk's power, all Solum could do was obey. For all intents and purposes, Ratatosk had forced his control over the Centurion. Emil had mixed feelings about it. Centurions were their servants, but with such harsh treatment ...

Something darted across the darkening skies. Emil looked up, and regretted it an instant later when one of the bandits they were fighting rushed him with a stab. He dodged belatedly, a gash on his arm opening up, drops of blood flying in the air. Richter sent a First Aid after he killed the mage facing him. Aster worked with Titan in disposing of theirs, and Emil defeated his opponent with a Dual Death.

"What are you doing, Emil?" Richter reprimanded, examining Emil's arm to make sure it had properly healed. "If you space out in the middle of battle like that, of course you're going to get hurt!"

Emil barely heard Richter's fussing and Aster's laughter. He had only seen it for a split second, but there was a cluster of shadows airborne, whose wings had a roughly triangular shape. Though the shadows looked small, he knew better than that by now. He frowned. What was it? The first thing that came to his mind was Rheairds, but the shape wasn't clear. He contented himself with the idea of Rheairds as they moved out to Meltokio.

Emil didn't know why, but there was a bad, foreboding feeling in his gut.

--

A/N: I offer to write a Tales oneshot of a reader's choice if they recognize who the Inteligente really were. Hints in the mental conversation abound.


	11. We Meet Again

A/N: Five of you guys guessed the real identity of the Inteligente correctly--the Entelexeia from Tales of Vesperia. So you guys who got it, go ahead and mail me what kind of oneshot you want from which Tales game and such, okay?

--

Part XI: We Meet Again

--

"What's the matter, Emil? You've been spacing out since we got here."

"I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

Richter quirked a brow but said nothing as they entered the Imperial capital, just in time as the heavy gate shut behind them. Evening had not quite fallen yet, but the sun steadily dipped below the horizon. Emil might not protest, but everything they've gone through so far (the Temple of Earth, Aster's happy quaking, waking what he called a Centurion), must have had a toll on him, and zipping around Tethe'alla in record time on foot probably wasn't helping.

Richter wasn't just worried about that. He worried about the Desians, particularly Aurum. Desians had advanced technology, like detecting mana signatures, which Sybak had adapted to help sense monsters in an effort to protect traveling traders. If they could detect mana signatures, then it was likely that a group composing of human, half-elf and monster trails was an oddity that could not be ignored.

And then there was Emil himself. How could he form pacts with monsters, how did he know about the Centurions? It might be true that he had spoken with elves, especially if he had been to Tethe'alla before (how else could he have known about Sybak?). But he hadn't had a Rheaird, and it seemed he hadn't used the Otherworldly Gate before. Was there even something like to the gate in Sylvarant? All in all, Richter couldn't help but feel a little sketchiness in this whole situation.

His hypothesis that Emil might be a Desian-engineered weapon seemed plausible, especially since it was one of the Desians that helped put forward the Genome Project all those years ago. He had no proof other than what could be described as pure conjecture. No matter what Emil's origins were, he was dangerous, and could be used as a weapon by Tethe'alla or the Desians if they ever got a hold of him. With a veritable army of monsters at Emil's fingertips, they could easily do whatever they wanted.

"Let's have a rest," Aster said abruptly, sitting down on one of the big stone steps leading to Tethe'alla's middle quarter. Richter and Emil followed suit. It was weird not to have Titan and Ripplescale with them, even if Richter and Aster had only spent so many days with the monsters so far. They awaited outside the city, Titan in the brush, Ripplescale in the river that flowed into Meltokio that acted as the water supply.

"So, where are we going next?"

"I'd like to go on awakening the Centurions." Emil said. "Like you thought, Aster, they control the monsters as well as the weather. Actually it's more accurate to say that they help distribute the mana and keep it in balance."

"Because this world was not originally of mana, right?"

"Yeah. I think the Scriptures of Martel had a passage like that."

"I thought something like that, but I couldn't be sure. How do you know all this, Emil? Elves can't have been common in Sylvarant."

True enough, Richter thought as he watched his best friend reiterate his earlier thoughts almost word for word. Even with elves and their knowledge, they were a withdrawn bunch. Richter just couldn't see them educating humans about these things, and Sylvarant's educational system itself was severely lacking compared to Tethe'alla's. Fishier and fishier ...

"No, they weren't ... they don't have a village in Sylvarant, and I don't know if they could go back to Tethe'alla."

"Actually," Aster said, a grim line forming on his face, "Centurions control the monsters and balance the mana. Centurions are like summon spirits--what I mean is, do they answer to another spirit? The elemental ones like Luna and Efreet answer to Origin, the King of Spirits, but they're different from Centurions. They're just manifestations of mana, while Centurions actually control and balance it through monsters."

"You sure pick up lot pretty quickly." Emil remarked in surprise. "Though I shouldn't be surprised. Sybak's best and brightest."

"Don't change the subject!"

"Ah, sorry. Yeah, the Centurions do answer to another spirit. Ratatosk, the lord of all monsters. He was the summon spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree."

"The Giant Tree? Wasn't that a fairy tale?" Richter interjected, brow quirked.

Aster looked at the half-elf. "I don't think so. When I spoke with the elves, they gave me several of their books, which talk about the Giant Trees, two of them. These tie in with the Scriptures of the Church of Martel: the Great Motherland Derris-Kharlan rained mana fragments upon the world, giving it life.

"The elves say they transplanted their Giant Tree from Derris-Kharlan to provide for mana in a world not of mana. To keep the homeland safe, they cut off a bough from the original tree and planted it on Derris-Kharlan. Each Tree had a spirit to watch over the tree, with other abilities like Emil says.

"There's also an artifact that used to be in Heimdall, the sacred stone. It turns the body's mana to flames, and this was used against demons. One of the elvish histories as told by the storyteller in Latheon Gorge was one where the demonic realm, Niflheim, clashed with this one."

Richter's slightly tapered ears perked. Niflheim. The existence of the demonic realm was purely hypothetical, but Rilena and her team discovered a dimensional boundary between this world and what supposedly was Niflheim. The rifts were greatest in the ocean near the Otherworldly Gate, which they went to investigate, not only for Niflheim but also for its passage into Sylvarant.

But if the rifts were so great, there must be something holding it back, or else it would have consumed the world by now if the demonic realm existed. Aster continued,

"One of the books (and the elf who gave it to me) have a chapter describing how their Tree spirit protected the world from Niflheim by making a gate, or a door to hold it back. The sacred stone was used to make the seal, and the Tree spirit gave it to the elves to use as a key if the seal needed to be altered."

"That was Ratatosk?" Richter asked, mind still reeling about the demonic realm. Not of it itself, it was probably true that it existed. Rather ... when he first met Emil, he had said something disturbing.

_"He," Emil jabbed a finger at Richter, "is the one trying to summon Niflheim into this world!"_

Even now the memory was still fresh in Richter's mind. Why would Emil think that he was trying to bring Niflheim into this world? If the Otherworldly Gate was also a gate to Niflheim, then it was possible that Emil had glimpsed Niflheim on the way to Tethe'alla, or even encountered demons. When Emil woke, Richter was the first thing he'd seen, so it was possible that Emil thought Richter was doing something with Niflheim for that.

But something didn't add up. Emil said 'summoning' Niflheim. What did that mean?

"I guess it was Ratatosk," Aster's voice broke Richter's train of thought. "The elves have records of a being called Ratatosk who was the messenger of the Giant Kharlan Tree. I guess that fits, since Ratatosk could tell the elves the state of the world through the Tree."

"I think so, too." There was also the matter of the Centurions. Emil had also said back in Sybak that Richter had had a Centurion with him. Aqua, whose name meant 'water' in elvish, was most likely the Centurion of Water. If Centurions were near the summon spirits and their seals, then Aqua would be in Sylvarant, since there was no Seal of Water in Tethe'alla.

Richter had never been to Sylvarant before.

It was too much of a coincidence to pass off as delirium from passing the dimensional fissure between the two worlds.

"Now that we've got that figured out," Emil said, sounding tired indeed, "where are we going next? I'd like to go to the Temple of Darkness."

"Tenebrae, the Centurion of Darkness." Richter mumbled under his breath.

"I'd like nothing better, since it is closest," Aster replied, "but first we need to rest. Secondly, there is the matter of Shadow's temple being extremely dark. We'll need more light-elemental monsters to help us fight the dark monsters there, and we'll need a blue candle to light the way."

"Grimoires." Emil said immediately about the monsters.

"But they'll be expensive." Aster said, brow furrowed. "There aren't too many light elemental monsters from which to take the materials."

"Half a million Gald, Aster, half a million Gald."

"All right, but the blue candle isn't common, either. I hear the Elemental Research Lab here has one, but I doubt they'll want to give it up easily. However, I do have one back in Sybak."

A vein pulsed in Richter's temple, temporarily distracting him from his brooding.

"You knew we'd be going to the temples, and it never occurred to you to bring it along?"

"Haha, I guess not."

"I have absolutely no desire to cross the ocean again." Richter said vehemently. Ocean was the only way to go, since he was not supposed to have left Sybak without permission. He very much doubted that Aster got the okay from the Director before they were forced to leave.

One of the merchants dealing near their staircase turned their way, brow quirked curiously.

"Excuse me, but do you folks want to cross the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge?"

Aster looked up at the merchant, whose arms were full of carpets and rugs. He nodded.

"Yeah, why? Did they put a heavier toll on it or something?"

"Not exactly ... the bridge is closed."

"Closed? Why?"

Richter's blood ran cold when the merchant next said,

"A couple of half-elves they arrested escaped on the bridge. They closed it off so the Papal Knights have a better chance of finding them either on this continent or the other one."

"Wouldn't that hurt trade, cutting off the bridge?" Emil asked, head tilted to one side. "Why would they risk the economy for two people? What did they do?"

"They're half-elves." Richter said darkly. "Half-elves are stupid, savage, filthy creatures. Those found guilty of a crime are executed without exception."

"Tch." Emil grimaced. "Man, they need to get their priorities straightened out."

"Thanks for the info." Aster said, and the merchant waved as he shoved off to wherever he had been going before. The scientist stood, hands on his hips.

"Well, now. I guess we'll have to go to the Elemental Research Lab after all."

--

"You're saying you want the blue candle we have?" One of the half-elf researchers asked, brow quirked. Aster nodded, arms folded over his chest.

"We can't get to Sybak with the bridge out. I promise I'll send you mine if you'd lend us this one. I can't guarantee that we won't use it all up, of course."

"That's fine, since ours is a prototype and yours the finished product." The half-elf said, "but it's not up to me. It's very taxing in both energy and resources to make one."

"Psh, that's nothing compared to when you guys made Corrine."

"I guess that's true, Aster, but still ..."

"C'mon, pretty please? I'm on my field study right now and we need a blue candle to get to Shadow's temple."

"If you can't give us the candle," Emil interjected, "then could you help us make monster grimoires? Katz can make them, but you'd be able to that much faster."

_"Monster_ grimoires?"

"Just like you revived summoning artes," Aster said slowly, "we found a way to make pacts with monsters based on what you guys discovered."

Emil's lips parted with surprise as he looked to Aster, who stood his ground unflinchingly. Why did Aster actively take the initiative to cover for Emil? He should have been glad about it, but there was a sinking feeling in his chest.

"I haven't heard anything like that ..." the half-elf said, cupping his chin in thought.

"The bridge _is_ out." Richter supplied the obvious with a wave of his hand.

"Ah, true enough. Okay, I'll see what we can do. We'll make you the books and then we might be able to see about the blue candle. Now if you'll--"

The door to the lab opened, late afternoon sunlight pouring in, long shadows splaying across the walls. Emil gulped, emerald eyes fixed on the foremost shadow. There was no doubt about it. He knew that silhouette, the blurry shape he had seen in the crimson flames of that night in Palmacosta.

Lloyd's voice was loud and mixed with shock and anger. He pointed at Emil and Aster, snarling,

"You were the ones who were trying to trap Colette! What are you doing here?"

"We could ask the same of you." Richter retorted, stepping forward between Lloyd and Aster. "We are here on business of the Imperial Research Academy in Sybak. Who are you?"

"Oh, Goddess, _officials_. We're doomed."

"Shut it, Zelos. They might not be in cahoots with the Church." Lloyd said this in a low voice toward the back of the group, where the rest of them were undoubtedly outside.

"You're having trouble with the Church?" Richter asked, brow quirked. He wondered if it was related to the missing Sorcerer's Ring.

Slowly, all of Lloyd's group filed into the building, closing the door and harshly cutting off the sunlight so that they were immersed in mild darkness. Emil's eyes wandered: Lloyd, Genis, Raine, Colette, Presea, Zelos, and Sheena. Regal wasn't with them. He found this odd, but perhaps they hadn't met Regal yet. He looked back to Colette. Something was different about her. Then he met her eyes. He couldn't stop himself.

"Colette! You're all better now?"

Confused, the blonde Chosen tilted her head to one side.

"Uhm, yes, I think. Have we met?"

Yes, Emil wanted to scream, all of them had met before. But he couldn't, not without causing an unnecessary scene.

"I'm from Sylvarant."

"How did you get here?"

"I'm not sure myself, but it wasn't a Rheaird."

Lloyd rounded on him, "How do you know about Rheairds?"

But Sheena was looking at Emil. Then she looked to Aster. She put a hand on Lloyd's shoulder.

"Hang on, Lloyd. I know this person, the one in the lab coat. Aster, right?"

"Hey, Sheena. How are you and Corrine?"

"Dandy."

"Anyway," Richter said irritably, "are you having trouble with the Church?"

"Not the Church, per se." Raine said, her arms folded over her chest. "Just the Pope. He thinks Zelos is trying to usurp the throne."

"And therefore we were branded as traitors to Tethe'alla." Genis added. Normally he would want to lie low, but with those blond guys they already met before, and they being officials from Sybak ... Genis and his companions were at their mercy.

"Heh, the Pope. That's nothing new." Richter said with a wry smile. It quickly disappeared as he looked back at the newcomers. "Why are you here?"

Lloyd obviously didn't want to talk; his last encounter with Emil made him rather reluctant. However, talk he did, as he had taken it upon himself over the course of the journey the role of leader. Whether or not Emil really had been trying to get to Colette, Lloyd felt he owed it to Emil to be the one doing the talking.

"We have to get to the continent across the bridge."

"But the bridge is out," Sheena said, "and we came here to ask my friends to help us. That won't get in your way, right?"

"I shouldn't think so," Emil said, but when he began to continue, Richter's voice cut him off.

"Are you two the half-elves the Papal Knights are hunting for?"

Genis frowned, blue eyes narrowed, but Raine stood her ground, her arms still folded. Even now, she looked devious and menacing to Emil.

"Yes. Are you going to turn us in?"

"Pshh. No way." Aster's reply drew the gaze of every person in the room. "I mean, we're not exactly on good terms with authority, either. We're Sybak scientists who left the academy without permission. Our pet soiled one of the library's most valuable books."

"Oh, but I'm sure your doggie couldn't help it." Emil didn't know why Colette automatically thought it was a dog that did it, but ah, well.

"Actually," Emil continued where Aster had left off, "we need to get across the ocean, too." He refrained from mentioning the blue candle--undoubtedly they would be met with suspicion on wanting to go to Shadow's temple, even if they used Aster's field study as an excuse. It was just too weird.

"We could do something," The half-elf scientist of the Elemental Lab said, "like convert an elemental cargo to run on water's mana."

"I made a pact with Undine," Sheena supplied.

"Fantastic! But it's impossible to make more than one in such a short amount of time."

"Why don't we rest at my place?" Zelos suggested. "The Sybakers, too."

"What?" Lloyd asked, baffled. "Zelos, they tried to get Colette! How can we trust them?"

"I'm not your enemy." Emil said in a soft, almost meek voice. His eyes were starting to burn, tears forming. But he would not let them fall. "I _am_ from Sylvarant. I just wanted Col ... the Chosen to be okay."

Lloyd and Emil locked eyes for a long time. Aster broke the ice,

"Besides, we'll have to share the ride to the other continent on the water EC, so it's both our interests to work together, at least for now. Truce? We could apologize to you properly for the misunderstanding that way."

Lloyd still looked reluctant, but Professor Raine addressed him.

"Let's take up their offer, Lloyd. If they try anything, we'll all be here to defend ourselves. Is that all right with you?"

Finally, Lloyd gave a heavy sigh, nodding. He walked up to Emil, offering a hand. Emil took the hand, and they shook with a firm grip.

"All right. I'll trust you for now, not just as a person, but as your friend. And friends don't betray each other."

Emil could not have been happier.

"Right. I'm Emil, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Lloyd."

"Likewise."

--

A/N: Got this done really quickly because you readers are so darling! By the way, I'm not sure if I was clear, but the Lab researchers want Aster's blue candle up front, so they have to back to Sybak first. There's also the matter of getting Exspheres, which I conveniently forgot. Ah, well.


	12. Doubt

A/N: Been doing a lot of stuff for school (two more projects both due this Friday, which also happens to be Senior Ditch Day ...), so there hasn't been much time to write. I hate typing stuff I wrote on paper, so FotP's newest chapter will have to wait.

--

Part XII: Doubt

--

Lloyd was not very happy. Though he had admitted to trusting the new guys with the mentality "innocent until proven guilty," he had not liked to do it. Even Raine was telling him not to judge immediately or so harshly, and kept reminding him of Sheena, how she had first been their enemy before becoming a most invaluable ally. Lloyd had offered those Sybak scientists his hand, but through clenched teeth.

Zelos had gone to school in the Imperial Research Academy himself, so of course he was all right and kosher with Aster, the blond guy in the lab coat, Richter, the red-haired bespectacled young man, and Aster's veritable twin, Emil. In fact, the Chosen had made sure his newest guests made themselves at home. Which Aster had done right off the bat.

In fact, there he sat on the sofa, across from the couch Lloyd sat on, with a coffee table between the pieces of furniture. Zelos's butler, Sebastian, had brought coffee, whose beans were grown in Latheon Gorge. That was elvish territory, but the elves did not scorn trading with humans, if they found living in the human world too distasteful.

Emil did not look very comfortable. Sitting between Richter and Aster, who was happily chatting with Sheena and Zelos about the state of the Academy and so on and so forth, Emil only sipped at his coffee, his mind obviously elsewhere. Richter tasted his coffee as though he might a wine. Lloyd decided to break the ice.

"So, Emil," he began. Normally he was great at making friends with people, especially odd people. But if he was having problems making friends, there was something wrong. "How did you get to Tethe'alla?"

Emil shrugged. "I don't know. Richter says it was the Otherworldly Gate, but also it shouldn't be possible unless there's another Otherworldly Gate in Sylvarant. I don't know if Sylvarant has anything like that."

"There are two Towers of Salvation," Lloyd pointed out, remembering his group's happy little debate on top of the Fooji Mountains. He didn't know why he had suggested that both Sylvarant and Tethe'alla's evidence of the Ancient War might be real. Though he also wasn't sure why Sheena and Raine were so quick to dismiss one or the other as the fake in the pair.

"True," Emil agreed. He didn't make eye contact, staring at some interesting corner of the wall. "I'm glad the Chosen's all better now."

"Yeah. Colette sure gave us a scare."

"I had no idea that that was what it meant to become an angel ..." Emil said softly, but Lloyd noticed that as he spoke, the fingers holding the handle on his coffee mug were clenched tightly, bleached white like bone. "And the Church always glorified the Chosen Ones, if not as angels of salvation, then as martyrs who paved the way for the next."

Lloyd nodded, remembering bygone days of childhood spent in the village of Iselia, even if he wasn't a true member of the town. "I thought it was all glory, too. Even though so many other Chosen had failed, even though I worried about Colette, I just thought the Regeneration had to succeed this time. But it's nothing but a false peace."

Emerald eyes staring listlessly into his coffee mug, Emil murmured, "Like an hourglass."

The conversation was getting heavy already, and it had been only a grand total of five minutes. Lloyd berated himself. He mustn't try to make friendships with such a stony heart. He didn't want to be like Kratos, who hadn't even acted like a friend when he was under the pretense. He decided to talk about something more lighthearted.

"So, you're from Palmacosta?"

Emil perked up almost at once. "Yeah. I've been away for a while, but I grew up there."

Lloyd grinned broadly. "Biggest city in Sylvarant. I remember the first time I went there. Even on the ship before we came into port, the city sprawled on the ocean, and it's always expanding. Sure, it's not half as big as Meltokio, but it'll get there."

"Yeah ..."

"Genis was supposed to go to school there. But he wanted to keep going with all of us."

Emil laughed then. "Well, it's not every day you get to help out in something like the World Regeneration."

"Haha. Exactly what he said."

They spoke about things like life in Palmacosta, life in Iselia, Dirk, Emil's parents, school, cooking, and swordsmanship, though Emil wouldn't tell Lloyd the exact circumstances of his picking up a blade. Where Lloyd learned it out of necessity and interest, for Emil it "just kind of happened." Lloyd hadn't seen Emil fight yet, so he couldn't judge his skill, but someday he wanted to know how Emil learned swordsmanship.

--

The Sylvaranti half of the group retired to bed quite early, with Sheena and Zelos chatting with Aster well into the night. When finally those two decided to get some rest, Richter had something to ask Aster.

"Why do we have to bring your candle to the Elemental Lab? Can't we just go right to the Temple of Darkness?"

Aster shrugged. "We can or not, though I think we should trade for the prototype candle. With mine, they can make more, and it's the least we could do after the way we ran out on Sybak."

"Wasn't that your fault?"

"Hahaha, yeah, but still. Besides, there's the matter of Exspheres--that junk seller sells Key Crests in the bazaar. And this way, Emil can make up with Lloyd and his friends."

"Did Emil even know these people?"

"Well, he was talking with them in Meltokio. If he doesn't know them already, then he most likely wants to be friends with them."

"With such an outlandish group? Sylvarant's Chosen, Tethe'alla's Chosen, a woman of Mizuho, a girl from Ozette, Sylvaranti half-elves and that bu--" He caught the look in Aster's eye, and cleared his throat. "--gentleman."

"Emil's pretty outlandish himself."

"True enough."

Aster put his coffee mug on the table, which Sebastian quickly whisked away. He stayed up until all the guests went to bed. The hardy butler was always the first of Zelos's servants to rise and the last to go to bed. Richter didn't think he could handle a job like this, but on the other hand, Sebastian seemed to enjoy it (or at least never complained) and his pay was likely handsome.

"I wonder ..." Aster began, arms folded over his chest, the way he always did whenever he was thinking.

"What?" Richter asked. He had just risen and was about to go to one of the guest rooms Zelos had oh so kindly provided.

"How can Emil make pacts with monsters? Why can he awaken these Centurions? And most of all, why does Emil want to awaken Ratatosk?"

"He said on the way here that if the Centurions' cores remain dormant, the weather would go out of control."

"But that hasn't happened, at least, not yet. And it sounds like the cores have been dormant for ... ever. There's the occasional natural disaster, but nothing like Emil had hinted at."

"Might that have something to do with the angels of Cruxis, or the Tower of Salvation?"

"Maybe. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. But someday, Emil's gonna have to tell us this." He laughed. "For all we know, he could be trying to use the Centurions and monsters to destroy the world!"

Richter was not amused. After all, it was a very real possibility. Emil had power, real power, on his hands, something far more than Sheena would ever have, even if she made pacts with every summon spirit in both Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. Every spirit in the worlds still would be hard pressed to go up against the army of monsters Emil commanded at his fingertips.

At that moment, something stirred in Richter's mind, and he started as if he had been jolted with a bolt of lightning. Aster had felt it, too, and the two Sybak scientists exchanged startled glances. It was like deja vu: somewhere, somehow, Richter felt he had thought this before, of Emil planning to destroy the world.

--

Cruxis Crystals were evolved Exspheres, Emil thought as the motley crew made their way through Meltokio's streets, to the Elemental Research Lab. They couldn't go all at once: Emil, Aster, and Richter were undoubtedly being hunted by the Imperial Research Academy for breaking a plethora of rules, and Lloyd's group, Zelos the Chosen included, were being pursued by the Papal Knights on charges of betraying Tethe'alla.

They moved through the city in small groups of three. Since the Papal Knights and Imperial Research Academy knew who traveled with whom, they mixed up in their groups whenever they could. Emil was in the lead, traveling with Zelos and Raine. Following them was Lloyd, Aster, and Genis, and finally there was Richter, Sheena, and Presea.

As they walked, Emil glanced at the Exsphere on Zelos's collarbone. Zelos was a Chosen, did he use his Cruxis Crystal as Colette did? There was no reason for him to, as Tethe'alla was flourishing. Though he told no difference between a Cruxis Crystal and an Exsphere, there was something about Zelos's Exsphere that was ... different. He couldn't put his finger on it. The color, shape, and internal structure was the same as any other Exsphere he'd seen.

"What's up, kid?" Zelos asked. Emil startled; he had been looking at the Exsphere from the corner of his eye. How did Zelos--? Never mind. It was probably best not to ask, or even wonder. Instead, he replied,

"Do you know where we can get some Exspheres? With Tethe'alla covered in monsters, we figured it was too dangerous not to have one."

"Very true. Mine was a gift from His Majesty the King of Tethe'alla, from his share of tribute from Lezareno Company's Exsphere mine. There is an Exsphere broker named Vharley, but he's always on the move, so it's hard to tell exactly where he is."

Emil groaned. Without Exspheres, they could go only so long, even with monsters and a Centurion on their side. No doubt Lloyd's entire team had Exspheres equipped. He didn't want to take any chances if and when the Desians came for him.

"Don't stress about it, kid. I'll bet we'll find at least some Key Crests on the other continent. At the least you'd have those, and maybe there will be people willing to sell their Exspheres."

"All right, we'll see."

Over the short year that Emil had traveled on and off with Lloyd's friends, in this little trip to the Elemental Lab and beyond, he discovered how little he actually knew about them. He'd never known that Raine was hydrophobic. He'd never known that the people of Mizuho were looked down upon almost as badly as half-elves were. And he'd never known that Lloyd disliked tomatoes.

He'd never seen a regular elemental cargo, either, or the modified one that surfed using Undine's power. Aster, Lloyd, Colette, and Genis were very enthusiastic about sailing in this EC, but Raine and a few others were not. Oddly, Raine didn't look very concerned about the sailing in and of itself.

She was looking at the way the EC emerged from its wing pack with a strange expression on her face. Something more that Emil hadn't known about Raine. She whispered something to herself, but Emil, despite being a summon spirit, did not have an elfish sense of hearing, so it escaped his ears. But the way Raine stared at the EC stuck painfully in his mind.

They were well on their way to bonding with the Centurions, and thus regaining their proper power. They would also establish themselves as the active Ratatosk, meaning the one dormant under the Otherworldly Gate now was nothing short of obsolete, an outdated machine that needed to be destroyed.

_They're beginning to suspect us._

Emil did not need to ask his other self to know what he was talking about.


	13. Knight

A/N: Uhm, yeah. Will make food, soon, I'm hungry. Wherein Aster is a weirdo, and Emil does something stupid and gets hurt.

--

Part XIII: Knight

--

The elemental cargo made it to the other continent with no problems at all (aside from Raine's hydrophobia, despite being in a secure vessel that quite separated her from the water). Their group, plus Emil's monsters, was a big one, so they had to move in separate teams, and to stay off the road. The objective was the same for all concerned: to get to Sybak. Lloyd's group wanted to take Presea to Kate (which piqued Aster and Richter's interests), and there were supposedly Key Crests for sale in the city.

No Exspheres yet, but it was a start, and better than nothing.

Unlike in Meltokio, Emil wanted to remain with Aster and Richter. He felt as though he owed it to them. Besides, he thought Lloyd's group needed a bit more time to warm up to him. Though the ice had broken, it was still quite solid, cold, and sharp.

Luckily there were thick forests aplenty near Sybak. Going on open grassland, even if they were away from the road, was nothing short of stupid. Though they battled more monsters, fights were easier with the wolf and water drake, and Emil managed to make a pact with a new monster: a Furie named Leste. She learned healing artes, which were great for her to have in addition to her wind magic.

"But what's she doing down here?" Aster inquired. Harpy type monsters preferred higher ground, in the mountains and such. Latheon Gorge and the Fooji Mountains were on different continents.

"Ventus isn't in Tethe'alla," Emil said, brow quirked. "There's no serious imbalance of mana--it'd have been more than just one monster."

"Then again," Richter interjected, "Are monsters sensitive to Centurion power?"

"Yeah." Emil replied. "They all answer to Centurions."

"Then is it possible that Leste sensed an increase in Solum's power and thus responded?"

Emil blinked. He felt like a dying dwarf star compared to the shining galaxies like Aster and Richter. Nonetheless he nodded. "That's probably it."

Sybak was no more than an hour's walk from where they befriended Leste. She took to Ripplescale well, as they both could fly, but she was more wary around Titan. The wolf thumped his tail and insisted that he needed none but Emil. That made him resolve to find another canine monster for Titan to befriend.

Whenever Leste lost feathers after a battle, Aster would gather them up and make them into quill pens. The bright green pens were rather attractive. Aster hoped sometime to be able to make monster grimoires, if only a blank one a Katz could fill in later.

--

They were cramped in the leafy boughs of a tall tree; Titan hid in the bushes, Ripplescale in a nearby stream, and Leste perched on a thick branch. Emil sat on a fork of two branches, holding adjacent ones to keep his balance. His fingers were getting sticky with tree sap oozing from underneath the bark. Across his tree sat Richter and Aster in another, kneeling in a crown. Aster was beside the half-elf, and ... licked the tree sap from his fingers.

"You _weirdo,"_ Richter hissed.

"Thank you, Leste," Emil whispered to the Furie. Down below were Papal Knights, five of them. Undoubtedly they were looking for Zelos, Genis, and Raine. Sybak utilized mana signature tracking devices, so when they detected signatures from half-elves, humans, and monsters all in close proximity, an investigation was the smart thing to do.

Silently Emil hoped that Lloyd's party was far off elsewhere in the woods. At least they weren't the Desians Richter had hinted at.

Unfortunately, even with Leste's shrill warning, their ascent into the trees had been a hasty one, and some of their travel bags remained on the forest floor. They couldn't contain anything important, of course, maybe just some food or odds and ends--

One of the Papal Knights shook out the contents of the bag. Out fell three monster grimoires, the Sorcerer's Ring, and Aster's locked dual spinner. Emil's stomach fell into queasy hell. Aster's bag. Those Papal Knights had Aster's bag. Aster's. Bag.

Aster's.

Bag.

Aster's ...

Emil glared at his mirror image sitting in the other tree.

_"You are so dead."_ He mouthed, emerald eyes narrowed. Aster shrugged; there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Here's the missing Sorcerer's Ring." The Papal Knight said, picking it up. He examined the monster grimoires. "Spell books. Those half-elves must be nearby."

Emil looked at Leste, whispering an order. The Furie nodded, spreading her wings as she began casting magic. Silently as he could, Emil drew his broadsword. He inched along the tree branch, hoping that Leste's magic would buy him enough time--

The Papal Knights shouted.

"Up there! In the trees!"

One of the Knights, an archer, aimed and fired an arrow at Emil in quick succession. Dammit! The sunlight must've glinted off his sword! He knocked the arrow away, but he also lost his balance, falling out of the tree.

The Knights went after him as he tried to get up, but intense pain flared in his wrist, in his sword hand. Oh crap. Crap. He must've hurt it in the fall. He tried to lift his sword; no use. It hurt too much; it was probably broken. He couldn't fight like this! There was a rustling of tree leaves.

"Surprise!" Aster shouted, landing with a loud thud on the back of the Knight nearest Emil. He couldn't get to his spinner, but he stole the Knight's halberd and charged the others. Which of course ended badly. A Knight gripped the halberd, throwing Aster to the ground. Emil shifted his sword into his left hand, running to Aster's aid. But he was a clumsy left-handed swordsman; his strikes glanced off the Knights' armor. In another instant he was disarmed.

"Dammit Richter!" Emil shouted as the Knights twisted his and Aster's arms behind their backs in order to arrest them. They heard iron cuffs clinking.

"Don't just sit there!"

Leste abandoned the Turbulence she had been casting for, instead swooping out of her tree, talons flying. Richter leapt to the ground, sword and axe at the ready. With a Mortal Spring and Enduring Summer he knocked out two of the five Knights. Aster thanked Richter, grabbing his spinner. In no time the sound of whirling blades clanging against armor echoed in the forest.

Titan burst from the bushes as a blur of dark fur, tackling another Knight. Ripplescale appeared after him, sensing Emil's discomfort and casting a healing arte. In record time Richter and Aster along with the monsters had all five Knights unconscious beneath the trees. Ripplescale's First Aid dulled the pain in Emil's wrist, but it was still quite broken. It hurt to move it. Richter, after making sure the Knights were indeed out cold, approached Emil.

"Let me see it."

"I-it's fine! Ripplescale--"

"Did nothing for it. It's broken, Emil. Let me look at it."

Reluctantly Emil obeyed. His hand stuck out at an odd angle, and there was a sickly lump in his flesh that really ought not to be there. Richter held the injured wrist gently, gingerly prodding and feeling the bones.

"Oh god that hurts!" Emil hissed, eyes squeezed shut.

"Stop whining," Richter retorted. "Are you a dog, or are you really a man?"

Emil cringed, but not only for the pain in his broken wrist. He sighed; he also argued back.

"At least I don't bite."

"I'unno," Aster sang over Emil's shoulder, handing Richter a roll of gauze along with a few broken arrow shafts to act as splints to fit Emil's wrist. Richter sent healing artes to the injured wrist, dulling the pain as he set in the bones in place.

"If the right buttons were pushed, you just might."

Emil grimaced as Richter squeezed his wrist. The half-elf saw this and cast another First Aid.

"I'll have to work on it a couple times a day." Richter said. "So no swordsmanship for a while. We don't want that wrist worse than it is."

Emil's head whirled. No fighting until the wrist healed. No fighting. Richter could fight, and Aster now that he had practiced with Marta's spinner, and there were the monster companions, too. He would be reduced to standing on the sidelines, giving commands. It was less reassuring than being on the battlefield himself.

_I know what you're thinking. Is that a good idea?_

_We can't fight. We need the authority for the monsters, too. They won't respect or obey someone who can't fight. Words are cheap._

_True. Which one?_

_You know which one._

_You do realize the irony of that, don't you._

_Shut up and let me do this._

_Tch. Fine._

Now that Aster was packed up, Richter made to leave, but Emil hung back.

"Wait. I have something to say."

Even the monsters looked back curiously at Emil. He looked at Richter, their eyes locking. He breathed in deeply, gathering the courage to say what he had to.

"Richter, you were wrong. I'm not a bioengineered weapon created by the Desians. But I am dangerous. I'm ... a Knight of Ratatosk."

Behind the glasses, Richter's eyes narrowed. "A what?"

"Ratatosk made pacts differently than other spirits. To help keep the mana balance, humans, elves, and half-elves were granted a portion of his power to make pacts with monsters and strengthen the Centurions and Ratatosk. I'm the newest Knight Ratatosk accepted in centuries."

"I thought Ratatosk was dormant?" Aster asked, brow quirked.

"He is," Emil said, never missing a beat. "But I made a pact with him through a Centurion. That Centurion got injured and returned to its core state and therefore it returned to its altar. That was two years ago." The corners of his mouth twinged into a half smile. "That's why I can use mana. It's Ratatosk's power."

"Really." Aster folded his arms, thinking.

"Where are you going with this?" Richter asked at once.

"I want to make one of you a Knight. With more monsters we'll be better protected."

"Who did you want to make a Knight?"

Emil took in a deep breath.

"Aster."

Startled, the scientist looked up. "What?"

"I want to make you into a Knight of Ratatosk."

" ... That's an honor, but why?"

Emil smirked. "Won't this help with your research?"

"Well, yeah, but ..." At a weary look from Richter, he broke into a grin. "What the hell, why not? Go ahead and knight me, Emil!"

_That sounded so wrong._

_Shut up, Ratatosk. _

_Hehe._

"It's traditional to forge pacts through Centurions." Emil said, digging in his bag for Solum's core. "You can choose how you want to base the pact: on a vow, your mana, or life ... though I wouldn't recommend that last one."

The crest on Solum's core glimmered a blinding white before it took to the air, hovering over Emil's outstretched palm. The rich, heavy scent of the earth, as though a fertile field were freshly plowed, permeated the air. The Centurion's core shone as its shape changed from a small sphere into a humanoid likeness.

In an instant, standing before Emil was Centurion Solum in the likeness of a boy no older than ten, with the black pointed ears Centurions had, short dark brown hair, tanned skin, golden brown eyes, and robes of earth tones embroidered with leafy green. A circlet of gold sat upon his brow.

"Greetings." Solum took a deep bow, first to Emil, then to Aster. "I am Centurion Solum. How may I be of service--" His eyes flickered to Emil, who thought as hard as he could, Knight of Ratatosk, Knight of Ratatosk. Their bond must have been solidifying, because Solum continued, "--Knight of Lord Ratatosk?"

A great inward sigh of Emil's relief. He motioned to Aster, who, along with Richter, eyed Solum most curiously. It was the first time they had seen a Centurion.

"Solum--will you make Aster a Knight of Ratatosk?"

A glimmer of interest in those golden brown eyes. Solum whirled around, his cloak swishing in his wake. He stood at half Aster's height, but even the scientist could feel the heavy power that was Solum's influence.

"Upon what will you base yourself to Lord Ratatosk?"

"A vow, like other Summon Spirits do. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. State your vow."

"I, Aster ..." He stopped. He turned to Richter. "Hey. What should I vow?"

Richter slapped his forehead with an open palm. "How should I know. It's your vow!"

"Well," Aster said helplessly, "This is more Emil's journey than ours; I already have a third of my thesis done. He has a reason for wanting to awaken Ratatosk!"

"Just something easy to uphold, then." Emil supplied. "We wouldn't want to keep renewing your vow."

"Okay, okay--I, Aster, vow to complete my research in the relations of monsters and mana, and ..." He did say something, but Emil hadn't heard in the undertone. Richter, however, had, and he went pale. He looked to Solum.

"No! Don't make that last bit part of the pact, please!"

The brown glyph was already under Solum's feet, and he looked confused. "Why not?"

"What did you say, Aster?" Emil asked, brow quirked. Aster smirked as Solum continued to process the pact and its vow--in the whole.

"To be with Richter forever and ever~"

_Wow._

_Agreed. I'm accepting that as part of the vow._

_You're such a--never mind. Whatever._

_Hahaha._

"Lord Ratatosk accepts the vow. Henceforth you are now a Knight of Ratatosk, Aster!"

The scientist shuddered as the Centurion--and Ratatosk's--power flooded through him. Solum's crest flickered on Aster's forehead before dimming, as if it had never been. Emil tilted his head to one side, curious at Aster's unchanged attire.

_Wait. No costume change? No mysterious disappearance of old clothes?_

_That was just Tenebrae's style. But--_

No sooner could Ratatosk complete the thought did something materialize about Aster's shoulders--a cloak of rich earth tones, embroidered on the hems with green leafy designs. It was closed together with a gold brooch whose surface was engraved with a tree that looked like a Giant Kharlan Tree.

"That is no ordinary cloak." Solum said. "You can use it to blend in with your environment. After all, my power _is_ to deceive others."

"Thank you very much, Solum!" Aster said giddily, examining his new cloak. It was smoother and softer than silk. Any self-respecting elfish tailor would be envious of this garment! He felt rather proud of himself.

Emil knew he was pulling out all the stops in order to achieve his goal of saving Aster's life. Now that he was made a Knight of Ratatosk, he was binding himself in the most explicit way possible to the Sybak scientist. This bond was actual proof of Emil's new mission.

He would not kill Aster this time.


	14. The Dwarf Altessa

A/N: Not much to say except I'll make something to drink or eat soon. Preferably coffee. Mmmmm~

--

Part XIV: Altessa

--

Given the little bout of trouble with the Papal Knights they had in the forest, Emil, Aster, and Richter were a bit surprised when they arrived within Sybak's city limits first--presumably. They assumed so because Lloyd's group was nowhere in sight. This Titan confirmed with a scent check.

"Well," Richter said, arms folded, "since we have a bit of time, why don't we go put Aster through his paces a Knight of Ratatosk?"

"Yeah," Emil smirked. "We don't have any earth elemental monsters yet. Why don't we try our luck?"

Aster was not dulled by either of their remarks. "Okay, then. Lead the way, Mr. Senior Knight!"

"Will do!"

As they spread out, Richter with Ripplescale and Titan nearest the city (Emil wanted Leste to get some more practice), Emil studied Aster curiously. The researcher didn't seem to notice, so intent was he on observing their surroundings for an impending monster attack. Leste's harpy song was bound to attract something sometime.

_Well, we don't really use magic, but ..._

_What's up?_

_Does our power give Aster the ability to use magic?_

_Yeah, if he wants to. Marta wanted to be able to help people, and so our power manifested within her as healing artes and light elemental attack magic._

_Really ... I wonder what kind of magic Aster wants to use._

_We can talk to him about it later. Earth would be appropriate, considering his patron Centurion, but it's really his choice._

_I doubt he'd object to at least starting with the earth element. It'd help him with earth type monsters, and he'd get closer to Solum._

_Yeah. This can wait until after he makes a pact, right?_

_Yeah._

"Emil, stand back!" Aster unlocked the blades of his spinner, feet spread shoulder width apart in anticipation of an attack. Leste's song turned from just abstract melodies into the casting of a spell; Turbulence. Shadows splayed in the sunlight, and from the brush near the forest burst--

Emil blinked. "A ... Filofilia?"

It was an earth elemental monster, but ...

_Damn. Talk about anticlimactic._

_Well, it's better than nothing ..._

_..._

_I guess ... ?_

Aster's enthusiasm was not diminished in the least. If anything, it seemed to only grow. He charged the little plant creature, dodging a wide leaf-arm. In the end, to subdue it, he only had to punt it around with a few well-aimed kicks. If he used his spinner, he undoubtedly would have sliced it to ribbons. When it was dizzy, Aster went ahead and called upon Solum to use the pact magic.

Solum's crest, identical to Ratatosk's but for the color, appeared under the plant monster. Aster's fingertips glowed the color of earth magic, deep brown with golden edges winking in the sunlight. The flows of mana was clearly new to Aster, but he wasn't Sybak's best and brightest for nothing. In next to no time, the magic was complete, and the Filofilia proceeded to rub against Aster's leg, like an affectionate cat.

Aster giggled, locking the blades on his spinner, stroking the monster behind what he presumed was its ear.

"Emil, Leste," Aster said, picking up the Filofilia in his arms, "this is Arbor. Say hello!"

-

They didn't have any monster grimoires but for First Aid and Recover, so Arbor learned those before the two Knights of Ratatosk resumed their hunt for earth elemental monsters. It would have been much, much easier if they were in or near the Temple of Earth, but there was nothing they could do about that.

The second monster to join Aster's ranks was a spider named Quartz. The eight legged monster seemed rather reluctant to leave its home, though Emil was able to relieve its concerns by telling it (a female), that it would live a while longer yet, for if it stayed home, met a charming male, and ended up laying eggs later, it would die. The exact reason why some monsters died right after giving birth, no exception, was a mystery even to Ratatosk.

_So, you don't know why lady spiders die after they lay eggs?_

_No, I don't. I only gave shape to the monsters; I don't decide where they fit in their niches. That's up to the Centurions and Origin._

_Does Solum know why--?_

_Maybe, maybe not. Solum's the Centurion who views the most beautiful moment in life as its fragility is apparent even as it survives through newer generations._

_..._

_Heh, freaky, I know._

_Well, he is the Centurion of Earth. Only he would fully understand geological time._

They spent too much time out in the wilderness, even if Aster succeeded in making two monster pacts. By the time they returned to the city, they found the outer limit occupied by Lloyd and his friends, with Richter hanging out near the border next to the wilds, waiting for Emil and Aster to return. As Richter got acquainted with Arbor and Quartz, Emil headed into the city. Why hadn't Lloyd's group waited for them?

The reason was apparent in the form of a person, a man crowned with red hair, clad in dark purple armor, with a two handed sword belted to his side. He was speaking with Lloyd and Colette at the head of the group--Lloyd looking hotheaded as always, prepared to draw his sword. With a start, Emil recognized the man. He pushed his way through the mass of people, apologizing to Raine, Zelos, and Genis.

The man was talking to Colette.

"--ish to live, you must remove that worthless Key Crest."

For the first time in Emil's memory, Colette looked angry, genuinely angry.

"No." She said, her voice hard. "I'm never taking it off. Lloyd gave this to me."

"Foolish sentiments." The swordsman made to leave, but, broken wrist and all, Emil stood in his way.

"You--I know you. You can't be--Kratos?"

Time seemed to stop. Lloyd had the most incredulous look on his face, as if to ask Emil, "You know this heartless bastard?" Kratos of course had a look of pure confusion on his face. It took a few moments of shared eye contact before his one visible eye went wide, and his lips parted in shock.

"This mana--this can't be--you should be ... no ..." Kratos was very stunned himself.

_Wait--he can sense mana? Isn't he human?_

_He ingested Aionis, a legendary ore found only on Derris-Kharlan, the Great Motherland of the elves._

Emil's throat went tight and dry, like sandpaper. He clenched the fist of his left hand, the one whose wrist was unbroken and whole.

Kratos's voice was stony, hard. Cold. "How ... are you here? Do you remember us? _All_ of us?"

_What does he mean?_

_Lemme handle this._

_Well, okay, but ..._

Green eyes darkened to blood red, and even with a broken wrist tied in a splint, Ratatosk managed to look intimidating. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at Kratos. There were a number of things he wanted to say to Kratos, but he had no wish to blow his cover before Lloyd and his friends. Lloyd would play his part, Ratatosk would his.

"Kratos Aurion." Ratatosk's voice was low. Lloyd and the others wouldn't hear, except Colette. "How does it feel to be out and about, Mr. angel of Cruxis?"

Kratos regained his normal stoic expression. " ... I take it you're the reason the Cruxis System's alarms have been going off nonstop?"

Ratatosk smirked, glad to have made this stony human uncomfortable. "We spirits don't take well to betrayal, Kratos. Tree spirits even less. It'll take some time, but I'm regaining my power, little by little. And ... I've already got a new Knight."

Kratos's brow shot straight up. "What? When did this happen!?"

"Just now." The summon spirit couldn't keep the satisfaction out of his voice. "He's only a human, but with time, his power will grow, as does mine. I also already awakened a Centurion. Solum, if you remember him correctly."

"The only aspects of the Cruxis System your Centurions affect is the Monster Distribution System." Kratos said. "It is of little consequence. Not like the mana links."

"So, what do you have to say for yourself? You do know what will happen to you and your precious Seraphim friends when I fully regain my power, right?"

Kratos did not reply right away. After a hefty silence, he said, "It is not just you we betrayed. I'm well aware that we've made enemies of the entire world. I don't know about Yuan or Mithos, but I'm definitely prepared to pay the price. I have only one thing to ask of you."

Ratatosk quirked a brow. "And that is?"

"Just leave me be until I can entrust it to Lloyd."

"It?"

"You know of which I speak. The object which allowed this twisted world to exist."

"Ah-hah. I gotcha."

_The object which allowed this twisted world to exist? What does he mean?_

_It's a magic sword, created by Origin specifically for Mithos the Hero._

_Uh-huh ..._

_Tch. Origin made a foolish move there. Why would he make something so powerful for a mere mortal, even if he ended the Kharlan War?_

_You'd have to ask Origin for that, I guess._

_Of course._

Ratatosk folded his arms, still not looking very happy. How would one be happy to see one of the people who betrayed him, abused his power, and stuck him in a seal for four thousand years? He sighed, shaking his head.

"I can't make any promises ... Once I awaken my Centurions, all bets are off."

Kratos nodded. "I couldn't ask for anything more."

With that, Kratos left the city.

--

Once more, the monsters, including the newest additions, were to wait outside the city while their masters amused themselves with whatever business they had to attend to. It was in the bazaar as Emil haggled for Key Crests that Lloyd managed to corner him under the pretense of separating good quality Key Crests from bad ones.

"Emil--how do you know Kratos?"

Damn. Of course; they all had been watching most intently when it appeared they did nothing more than stare each other down. Emil found himself fervently hoping Lloyd hadn't heard anything of the conversation. He shrugged.

"The first time I saw him ..." He rifled through the mortal Emil's memories of Palmacosta, "Was when Magnius was attacking the city."

"Ah." Lloyd said, picking up one Key Crest, examining the angelic language carved on the inhibitor ore. "Yeah, he made a big show of running up to Magnius, slicing his side open and saying something like, 'respect the wishes of the Chosen.' Hmph."

Had Lloyd always borne this animosity toward Kratos? According to Yuan at the World Tree, Kratos had been one of Lloyd's companions ... and friends. But how far back did the "had been" stretch? The way Lloyd had looked at Kratos, among everyone else, they would have been enemies. Were they? In Emil's memory of life in Palmacosta, at that incident where Magnius attacked, Lloyd had not attacked Kratos. Instead, he ignored the older man in favor of attacking Magnius. So, had they been friends when they were in Palmacosta?

Emil decided to just change the subject. There was too little he himself knew about Kratos, although Ratatosk appeared to know him quite well. Ratatosk had said that Kratos, along with the man's friends, had betrayed him. Tree spirits don't take well to betrayal, Ratatosk had said. Did that mean--did Kratos form a pact with Ratatosk? If so, what kind of pact?

"Palmacosta was the first time I saw you, too. Of course I didn't know who you were, but I thought you were amazing for standing up to the Desians like that."

Instead of smiling at the compliment, Lloyd's eyes went dark, distant, as he thought.

"So you really are from Sylvarant ..." he said softly.

"Y-yeah."

_Man, what's with Lloyd? He's acting like he did after the Blood Purge._

_He was more at ease with all of you after we remembered who we were._

That was true. Lloyd had been more cheerful. He had gotten along with everybody, including Emil and Marta, who may have felt lingering resentment toward him for the Blood Purge, even if he had been innocent all along. The fact remained it was Lloyd's form that attacked the city. The memory of him slicing down innocent people was forever etched in their minds.

Then Lloyd's voice broke his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Emil. Even though we talked in Zelos's mansion, the thought you were really a Sylvaranti was hard to accept."

First impressions were everything. Now it went both ways, for Emil and Lloyd. Emil's first impression of Lloyd was the ruthless man who killed his own people despite the fact he had helped save both Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. In this altered timeline, Lloyd's first impression of Emil was the twin brother of a Tethe'allan scientist who wanted his hands on a soulless Colette.

_So the rift between Sylvaranti and Tethe'allans really was so deep._

_The whole of the Tethe'alla might know of Sylvarant's existence, _Ratatosk's voice echoed, _but Sylvarant as of now has no idea that Tethe'alla even exists._

_How would you know?_

_The worlds are split. Tethe'alla knows of Sylvarant because they investigated the Otherworldly Gate. Right now, only Tethe'alla has that prejudice against Sylvarant._

_No, that's not necessarily true. Remember how Lloyd treated us when he thought we were Tethe'allan?_

_Ah, that's where you're wrong. Would Lloyd have acted that way if he didn't think Colette were in danger?_

That made Emil giggle. _You're doing it again._

_Wha--doing _what?

_Being _nice.

_What--I am not!_

_You so are._

_In case you didn't notice, I just threatened Kratos._

_Well, I'm not so sure I'd trust someone, either, if they betrayed me._

_Ah-hah. What about Richter, then?_

_Hey--!_

"What're you smiling about?" Lloyd's voice broke Emil's little mental debate. "I mean, I still couldn't believe you're really Sylvaranti until now ... how does that make you happy?"

_Uh-oh._

_I keep telling you to pay attention._

Emil ignored that last little jibe in favor of focusing on Lloyd. This was a simple mishap that could be easily fixed. Still smiling, he said,

"I'm just happy that you believe me at all." Not that it wasn't true.

That threw Lloyd off guard. After a moment's pause, as if considering what Emil said, his mouth slowly turned upward in a long smile. He pressed some Gald into the hands of the bazaar seller before depositing something in Emil's own hand.

As the brunette swordsman grinned, Emil thought, _Now that's the Lloyd I know._

His question answered, Lloyd said a farewell ("See you later!"), ambling off to his other companions, who were doing some shopping of their own in the form of equipment, medicines, and food. Watching Lloyd go, Emil opened his hand.

Glimmering in the dying sunlight was a Key Crest.

-

It was extremely weird to be in Sybak, and not be in Aster's room. Given that they weren't ready just yet to submit themselves to the Academy and suffer the consequences of their actions, they holed themselves up in the inn along with Lloyd's group, a hefty sum of Gald ensuring the innkeeper kept his mouth shut. The inn Emil remembered going to when he first visited Sybak two years later was far too cramped for ten people--only one room, and only two beds! So they found a more comfortable, roomier inn a little deeper in the city.

It wasn't that different from Meltokio's inn, except it had one more room. It would be a tight squeeze with the four women of Lloyd's group sharing a room and the remaining three men (or man to be in Genis's case) sharing another, but it would work. Emil, Richter, and Aster had the last room to themselves.

"Here," Emil said, up-endng a small leather bag on the tiny round table, "I don't much about Key Crests, so Lloyd helped pick them out. They should work once we actually get some Exspheres." He refrained from mentioning that he would have little need of an Exsphere.

"They're pretty small," Aster commented, examining his in the lamplight. "The ones Lloyd and his friends were wearing were bigger."

"Yeah," Richter agreed. "But I don't think that should affect how they restrain an Exsphere's parasitic process."

"I dunno," Aster replied doubtfully. "I can see angelic language carved on this, but it's all cramped together. What if this can't make an Exsphere safe to wear?"

A little irritably, Emil said, "It's the best we have right now. Do you have any bright ideas how to get better ones?"

Equally as irritably, perhaps even more, Richter shot back, "Actually, I do. There's a dwarf that lives here in Tethe'alla. His name is Altessa. If we find him, he could make some real Key Crests for us. They'll be more reliable than these little trinkets."

That made Emil pause. Slowly, he asked Richter, "You know a dwarf? I thought they're pretty rare."

Of course, Emil had nothing to back up this claim except his memories of growing up in Sylvarant. There were half-elves aplenty thanks to the Desians, but elves themselves were scant, and not just because their village was in Tethe'alla. Just like elves, there must be dwarves in Sylvarant, but they must not make themselves apparent.

_Are you sure you're remembering correctly?_

_What do you mean?_

_Lloyd's dad, Dirk. He's a dwarf. You two talked about it in Zelos's mansion._

_I know that. I've even heard of him in Palmacosta, too. But it seems like Dirk's the only dwarf anybody knows in Sylvarant._

"They are," Richter agreed, his irritable demeanor evaporated. "Because they live underground. Our mines are we what we consider deep, but they're nowhere near deep enough to reach any other dwarves. Our tunnels have barely scratched the surface of their domain."

"Then," Emil quirked a brow, "How do you know a dwarf? Dirk lives on the surface in Sylvarant because he raised Lloyd."

The atmosphere in the room became very dim, even though the lights were still on. Richter always had that stoic look on his face, but Aster, the most unnaturally cheerful person Emil had ever met (even more so than Colette), had a deep frown; his eyes were studying the Key Crest in his hands, but blankly. Emil blinked, confused. What had he said wrong?

"You saw that girl with Lloyd," Richter said slowly, "Presea?"

"Yeah." Emil replied. "She's always so quiet. She doesn't really talk much."

Again, the horrible silence.

"Never mind that." Aster finally said. "Altessa lives in a mountainside, but in a dwelling close to the surface. He told us before that in the early days of dwarvish civilization, they lived in dwellings carved out of the surface of mountains and foothills. As they worked metals and minerals more and more, they went deeper and deeper in order to find better materials to ply their craft, until they developed the intense network of tunnels they live in today."

"Really? Wow." Emil let out a low whistle. "Has anybody ever been in a dwarf tunnel?"

Aster shook his head. "Only those closest to the surface, and that's dangerously deep by human mining standards. Elves even less; they like to live in forests."

"Anyway," Richter said, "If we can't find that Exsphere broker, Altessa's the only one who can give us some Exspheres. Though I don't imagine he'll just smile and give us all we ask for. I don't know about the other dwarves, but Altessa's not the most gracious person I've ever known."

They continued to talk about this well after nightfall, not just about dwarves, but also of the Exspheres soon to belong to them. Aster made a great joke of asking Emil and Richter where they planned to wear their Key Crests and Exspheres. Emil had stuttered and answered that it was most likely going to be on his hand, like Lloyd, while Richter had just retorted that it was none of Aster's business. But even through the laughing he and Aster had done at Richter's expense, both he and Ratatosk shared a disturbing thought.

Both Richter and Aster were hiding something.


	15. The Blue Candle and the Black Forest

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I had a summer semester of spanish class at my college, and summer classes are uber condensed, with lots more work. Now I finally have free time again! Haha.

--

Part XV: The Blue Candle and the Black Forest

--

"No."

"Come on, why not?"

"Because I said so, and that's final!"

"I'm at least twice as strong as you are!"

"Ah-ah. We'll need stealth this time, not brute strength."

Emil had to keep from giggling, watching this strange exchange between Aster and Richter, whose roles were for once switched in that Richter wanted to do something reckless that Aster did not approve of. The reckless something being breaking into the Imperial Research Academy and take Aster's blue candle. With its owner missing, nobody at the Elemental Research Lab had the authority to remove it from its current place, and if Aster came personally to retrieve it in broad daylight, undoubtedly he would have been arrested.

Of course Emil doubted the Academy would take serious legal action against Aster, seeing how he was human, and the best mind Sybak had ever had. But they would, however, keep him in the city for a long time with no permission to leave it until they saw fit. This much Aster was adamant of, and he had known the Academy for a number of long years now.

"Besides," Aster continued, "Emil's wrist is still broken! If you went with me, who would look after him?"

"I'd be gone for thirty minutes, an hour tops! He'd be staying in this inn, what harm could come of it?"

_Ouch. I feel loved._

"Well," Emil interjected, "Raine can heal, and she is only three doors down from here ..."

"See there?" Richter grinned. "Even Emil agrees that sneaking in there alone is foolish!"

"I didn't say anything like that!" Alas, his weak protest was ignored.

Richter said slowly, "Give me one good reason why I can't go with you."

Aster's eyes narrowed, and he frowned. "Because you're a half-elf. If they caught you, you'd be executed."

"Fine." The red-haired man said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's not like I knew of a secret passage you could take that the guards don't know about."

"Psh, I don't need a secret passage! I'm a Knight of Ratatosk!"

And with that, Aster marched out the door. There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence. But Richter didn't look angry as he had sounded, instead, there was a sad frown upon his face. He sighed heavily.

"I can't even help my friend because of this stupid caste system. I hate Tethe'alla."

_Because breaking and entering into a royal facility is perfectly acceptable._

_Ratatosk, hush._

"You guys normally argue like that?" Emil asked, brow quirked.

Richter shrugged. "Not really, but you know how Aster is."

"Human with a few screws loose, right?"

Surprised, Richter's eyes darted up to meet Emil's. After a few moments, he smiled.

"Yeah. Human with a few screws loose."

-

Getting the blue candle would be a simple matter. Aster always kept it in a glass container in the shade, out of the sun, in his dormitory. It was getting inside the academy that would prove sticky. All the windows were too high above the ground to sneak into, and there was only one door in or out of the building, a reinforced steel door that was always guarded, day and night.

Aster was beginning to feel a little twinge of regret that he hadn't at least asked Richter about that secret passage. He'd never heard of one ever being in the academy, but Richter was as crafty as they come. Nonetheless, done was done; he must find his own way in now. He went to the empty bazaar, toward the junk seller's stall. The merchandise was no longer on display, but there were crates stacked high next to the academy wall. Thus Aster climbed and vaulted himself over.

He landed in a quiet crouch on the stone pavement. He could see the guard standing at the academy door. The guards were always human; the department was scared that if they let half-elves guard the academy, they would run away, or worse, rebel against them. Rolling his eyes at the thought, Aster silently crept toward the guard. The door had a magitechnology lock, the only use in the entire world of the lost craft. Only the guard at the door had the key.

Aster didn't know enough martial arts to knock out the guard in one strike, and though he had his spinner for self-defense, killing the guard wouldn't do, either. The one object of stealth he did have, however, was Solum's cloak. Grinning, he draped it over himself; the weave was so thin he could breathe as easily as if he weren't wearing it. He snuck right behind the unsuspecting academy guard.

"Pssssssssssst," he hissed long and low. The guard, startled, whirled around, but judging from his wide eyes, saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, he turned forward to resume his post. Aster had to choke his giggle. He hissed again, this time, with slithering words.

"I am the ghossssst of thissssss academyyyyyy,"

"The hell!?" The guard looked around wildly, but he didn't see anything but the stone wall of the building, or the pavement. There was nothing there. What was making that noise?

"I am the lingering ressssssentmeeeent of allllll the half-elllves who died heeeeeeere."

"A-are you? I should warn you, the Church of Martel performs exorcisms!"

Exorcisms. Psshhhh.

"The meeeen robed in sssssssilk mean nothiiiiing to meeeee. I craaaaave alllll that issssssss magicalllll."

"I-I'm human!" The guard's voice had risen to quite an unnatural pitch. "There's nothing magical about me!"

"Ah, but there issssss. The keeeeeyyyy you carryyyyyyy ..."

Without another word, the guard dropped the key and ran full speed away from the academy building, screeching with fright as he did so. Smirking, Aster picked up the key and unlocked the door. It was heavy, but not as heavy as the door that kept the half-elves locked in the basement, so inside he went.

Once he was inside, it took a total of fifteen minutes the procure the blue candle and get back outside--the guard was also still gone. Aster wondered how long that poor man would be haunted by the ghost of Sybak's deceased half-elves.

-

Richter rubbed his eyes, sleep threatening to fall over him like a dark shroud despite the fact it was late morning. If he had had his way, they would have left Sybak a long time ago, but Emil, curse his need for multiple friendships, wanted to see what Lloyd and his companions had to do here.

"I still don't understand why you stayed up all night, Richter," Aster smirked at him, patting his bag, where the blue candle safely rested.

"I was watching for the unprecedented chaos you undoubtedly inflicted on the academy's personnel."

Aster threw his arms up in exasperation. "Is it really so hard to believe that I managed to get in and out without calling the Four Horsemen upon the world?"

Richter studied Aster's face for almost an entire minute before he answered.

"Yes."

A few feet away, at the inn's entrance, Emil was talking with Lloyd. Richter usually didn't eavesdrop, but his acute hearing that was part of his elvish inheritance wasn't something he could help short of plugging his ears and saying, "La la la la la la la la la." Which wasn't something he was exactly inclined to do anyway.

"Nah, we're not leaving Sybak quite yet." Lloyd was saying to Emil after Aster's veritable twin had asked. "We promised we'd bring Presea to Kate in the academy. It's important."

At those words, Richter's blood ran cold. He and Aster never had a part in the project that concerned Kate and her colleague, but they were certainly disturbed by it. Why did the Pope of the Church of Martel want a Cruxis Crystal, anyway? Was it only coincidence that Aurum's Desian master also demanded one? He shook his head, he didn't know enough yet. The important thing was, Lloyd was going to take Presea to Kate ... to do what?

Aster's words confirmed his suspicions. "I think Lloyd's trying to have Presea restored to her normal self." Whatever self that was; the girl lumberjack had been in a state of emotional indifference longer than Aster had been working at the academy.

Usually, Richter wouldn't mind this; if anything, he had felt sorry for the girl who mindlessly went about her business as lumberjack of Ozette. But if Lloyd got Kate to restore Presea, to free her from the experiment, what would become of Kate? What would the Desians, who wanted a Cruxis Crystal, do without the test subject?

"Richter?" Aster quirked a brow as the half-elf walked up to Lloyd.

"I don't disagree with what you're trying to do," Richter said, to which Lloyd donned an expression of bewilderment. "Just keep the consequences in your mind."

"Okay ..." Lloyd replied, but it was obvious that he hadn't thought beyond the current dilemma.

"Consequences?" Emil asked as they watched Lloyd's motley crew head toward the academy. "What did you mean? What are they trying to do?"

"It's morally correct," Richter said, "but against the law."

-

_Okay,_ Ratatosk's angry thought was, _this guy makes no sense!_

_Calm down. We just don't know what's going on, that's all._

_What did you think Richter meant by, consequences?_

_I don't know. But there's definitely something odd about that girl, Presea. I hope that whatever it is, they'll take care of it._

_Meanwhile, we've got our own things to do, right?_

_Right._

Sybak was a dangerous place to be, so it was with all due haste that the two Knights of Ratatosk, their monsters, and Richter made their leave of the royal academic city. They stayed off the road, but the plains near Sybak were open, without cover. Any Papal Knights pursuing them could easily find them.

Even with the combined need for cover and visiting the dwarf Altessa for some quality Key Crests, Emil, in agreement with Richter, thought Aster was being a little too happy-go-lucky about going in the Forest of Death.

"Wow! It's so dark here! Hey, Richter, maybe we'll find your favorite coffee beans while we're here!"

Dark it was indeed. Emil couldn't see anything except for the patches of sunlight--which were few and far between--that managed to get through the thick canopy of treetops. Luckily they had Solum and monsters with them now. They formed a kind of guard around their masters, though Arbor had to stay close to Aster. The little filofilia wouldn't last long in a place like this.

_Darkness type monsters are abound here, ghouls and demons. Too bad we don't have Tenebrae with us yet._

_Wouldn't they still attack even if we had Tenebrae?_

_Sadly, yes, since virtually all the monsters in both worlds have been free of their Centurions for ... thousands of years._

Emil rolled his eyes. Regardless of whatever Centurions were or weren't in their possession, they could still make pacts with monsters of all types. Titan, for one, was a darkness type already, no doubt a straggler from this very forest. He could feel Titan's half gladness, half apprehension in being back home.

"I feel something nearby." Richter said. "It's like that device at the Temple of Earth."

Aster lifted his hand, though Emil could see it only because the Sorcerer's Ring on it was glowing, as if in response. Even in the pitch darkness, he could see Aster's childish grin.

"Ooh! I wonder what it'll do this time! Let's try it out!"

Slicing through the dark was this incredible burning beam of golden light--there was a collection of howls of agony from person and monster alike as their sensitive eyes were assaulted by the brightness. It was as if the sun itself had come down into the forest.

"Oh god my eyes! _I can't see anything!"_

"Emil, don't move around! You'll run into something!"

Unfortunately, Richter's warning came too late, as Emil tripped over Titan--the next few moments were nothing but a blind blur for Emil, as he fell, hurtling backwards through the thick brush of the Gaoracchia Wood. Downhill, it seemed, thorns and tree limbs and even what Emil thought was a cold hand grabbing and scratching past him as he rolled down.

After what felt like forever he finally stopped rolling, on level ground. Aside from the leaves in his hair and clothes, he was all right and dandy--until he tried to move his arm. Emil hissed in pain. It was his broken wrist. He hurt it--again. Now he was alone in the woods--the Forest of Death--with a broken wrist. It would take a while before he could see again, too.

_I love my life._

_Seriously, this is the second time Aster indirectly got you killed. Are you sure he isn't really trying to?_

_He has no real reason to. I'm sure it's just an honest mistake. Not like he made me trip over Titan._

A deep mental sigh. _True._

Monsters bonded with their Knights could sense their proximity. With this in mind, Emil called for Titan and Leste, but bade Ripplescale to stay with Aster and Richter. Solum's core was also with Aster, therefore the Centurion could also help locate him. Despite the distance, Emil could feel the thoughts of the wolf and harpy, immediately coming to his aid.

Emil sighed, standing up. "Stupid broken wrist."

_More like stupid you for falling on it._

_Well, I'm you, so that makes you stupid, too._

_Hahah! Well, damn, I guess it does._

Usually lost people stayed in one place, waited for someone to find them. In this case, staying in one place in the Forest of Death wasn't on Emil's Smart Things To Do list. His monster companions plus Solum would ensure that he would be found eventually, and being unable to fight with his even more broken wrist, his first priority would be trying to find a safer place to be.

If there was such a thing as "safe" in the Gaoracchia Forest.

-

"Emil?" Aster called out in the darkness, pointing the shining Sorcerer's Ring all around the area. "Emil? You there?" There was a rustling noise, and Titan's shadow flew across the ground, into the downhill brush, Leste following with a few flaps of her emerald wings. Bewildered, Aster quirked a brow. He looked around some more, and Ripplescale never left her flank of the party, though her low, mournful murmurs suggested she had also wanted to leave.

His heart plummeted as he realized what had happened--something happened to Emil. Emil was no longer anywhere near them. As his thoughts rose to increasingly distressed levels--Emil, with a broken wrist, lost in the Forest of Death--Solum materialized beside him.

"Lord Emil has fallen downhill, deeper in the woods."

"Yeah, I figured that." Richter replied, looking carefully over some crushed ivy vines on the ground that were by Emil's recent tracks in the soft ground. He stopped, confused. "Wait, 'Lord' Emil?"

Solum was not even flustered. Almost indignantly, he stood up just a little taller, and though Richter was quite a few heads taller, the Centurion managed to actually dwarf the half-elf.

"It is merely a title of respect we Centurions may use to refer to the Knights of our Lord Ratatosk. Knights are so hard to come by these days ..."

"I think you're misusing the term, though." Richter replied. "Lord is a term for persons granted rank of nobility and land from the king--" Solum cut him off, but he still retained that unnatural calmness in his voice.

"Your language is so full of limitations. There is no term or title that is 'correct' of the respect due to Lord Ratatosk's Knights. Unless of course you want me to sound foolish by spewing such things as, Emil the Great, or some such."

"Actually, you could use Sir, as we use that term for knights."

Solum shook his head, his brow knitting together just a little. "Sir? _Sir?_ As I recall, that word is widely used to describe anybody that happens to be male! There is no respect in that word anymore!"

Richter opened his mouth to retort, but Aster interrupted, waving the light-giving Sorcerer's Ring to get attention.

"Hey, I wonder ... does that mean you'll call me Lord Aster?"

His grin was squashed by Solum's flat frown. "No. I'm afraid you've done nothing much to earn that measure of my respect yet."

Aster's face fell. "Oh ... cold."

Solum could have rolled his eyes for the cynical response to Aster's decline in enthusiasm. "Anybody endowed with Lord Ratatosk's power can make pacts with a few monsters. Now, I recall entire orders thousands of years ago, dedicated to mastery of but a single Centurion's power ... now those Knights were worthy of my respect!"

"So has Emil mastered a Centurion's power?" Richter inquired.

"Once upon a time." Solum sighed, shaking his head. "But alas, both he and Centurion were injured gravely. He is only beginning to regain what he had lost as a Knight of Ratatosk."

Richter gave a small shrug. "Well, that explains how he almost exploded the academy lab."

"But, Solum!" Aster approached his patron Centurion, "How're we going to find Emil? All we have this light," he waved the Sorcerer's Ring, "and we can't exactly go shouting for Emil. We'll have monsters all over us in no time."

"Titan and Leste left to find their master." The lord of earth monsters said. "I'm not sure if you've grown enough in your power to feel it, but every Knight shares a mental bond with their monsters, including the power to sense their proximity to one another."

"Well, I can't really tell," Aster shrugged his shoulders. "Since Arbor won't leave my side, and Quartz isn't always too far off, either." Again, the small frown on his face. "What do I have to do for you to call me 'Lord' Aster?"

"Aster," Richter sighed. It was such a trivial thing to keep clinging to--meanwhile, Emil was in danger! Let's worry about what some otherworldly manifestation of monster and mana calls someone! Emil's life can surely wait. No problem at all.

"Learn to wield my power." Solum answered, the light from the Sorcerer's Ring glaring off his glasses so they hid his eyes. With that long, catlike grin, the picture was quite creepy. He lifted a hand toward Aster.

Immediately, Solum's crest glowed on Aster's forehead, a stronger earth-colored light gathering on the left side of his brow. When the glow subsided, the shape of an amber jewel, almost like a scar, remained ingrained in Aster's skin. The scientist's hand flew up to touch his forehead, the jewel embedded there. He knit his brow together, confused.

"What is--"

"Worry not." Solum said, looking quite smug with himself. "You humans have limited ability to channel mana from anything, even your own bodies. Therefore, we Centurions grant our Knights power by giving them something of ours."

Alarmed, Richter asked, "Is that your core? Are you sure you want to place that in Aster's possession?" For Emil had said right after they awakened Solum: if a Centurion's core were destroyed, it would cease to be.

"Hey." Aster shot his half-elf friend an annoyed look. "I think it's a good way to go about it. The core can't get stolen, or get accidentally broken, or anything ... basically, if someone who even knows of the core wants it, they have to go through me."

"Which is exactly what I'm worried about," Richter maintained with a heavy exasperation. "Remember the Papal Knights, Aster? Remember the halberd?"

"I'll make sure you remember this: _Grave!"_

"Ah." Solum said as he watched the eruption of earth and stone knock Richter a good ten feet away from where he originally stood. "Control of my power also is a good thing to aspire to, Aster."

"Hehe, right. I'll keep that in mind."

Ten feet away, lying in the muddy ground, leaves stuck to his face, hair, and clothes, Richter heaved a sigh. Tidal Wave is not the answer to all his problems. Tidal Wave is not the answer to all his problems.


	16. No Longer Broken

A/N: College fall semester starts soon, but I'll have three day weekends and the only class I'll need to seriously study is my english (online) class, so between school, finally getting the damn driver's license, and World of Warcraft (which I neglected to mention, might be the cause of my conflicts with What to Do With The Leisure Time That Is Most Certainly Mine and Mine Alone), I can still write.

--

Part XVI: No Longer Broken

--

There was a feeling in Emil's chest, an odd feeling he had never before experienced, and it was neither a foreboding omen of certain doom nor had anything to do with surging hormones (or at least, summon spirit made imitations of them) in a young teenage boy's circulatory system. It was not the kind of feeling on his imitation organic heart, but rather something deeper within him, to the core, if you would. He gingerly put a hand on the general area he was feeling the sensation, but it didn't hurt.

He was also getting almost painfully aware of the earth beneath his feet, the smell of the soil and the things plants and animals alive, dead, or dying were doing or have done to said soil. It felt quite familiar, and he didn't need Ratatosk's sarcastic-laced explanation to figure out what it was.

_It's Solum's power,_ Emil said in a firm mental statement to his other self.

_And you figured that out by yourself? What gave it away?_

_I dunno, maybe the feeling that the earth would swallow me whole if it could and if I were standing in the right portion of a great gash in it._

_Haha! He knows how to make a sarcastic jab!_

Emil sighted irritably as he continued picking his way through the impossibly dark Gaoracchia Wood, or as others liked to call it, the Forest of Death. Though he didn't know if it was so called because people had seen death there, or if the forest itself was dying or was the cause of death to anything. That was saying nothing of the things that lived inside the forest and perhaps underneath it.

_So, what's Solum trying to do? Is our bond getting weird or something to be worried about?_

_He's sensing our location. You'd feel the monsters doing it too, but we've been bonded to them to a very short time._

_How can Solum's bond be felt so much more strongly, then? He hasn't been awake for long._

_Solum's a Centurion. They're generally a higher level of being than monsters._

_That's a mean way to put it,_ Emil griped, but Ratatosk was right, as he had created the Centurions.

A few more moments of blindly trudging through a forest that seemed keen on entangling him with no intention to let go, and a thought came to Emil, or rather, both Emil's frame of mind, and Ratatosk's, as the threshold marking the boundary of, "this is my side, and that is your side," was painfully blurry, and dribbling down the way with water carrying the pigment so that there might have been no boundary at all.

_Can't we do something about this broken wrist? We're not limited to this form, right?_

_Well, no, in a manner of speaking. The thing is, metamorphosis is harder with only a fraction of our strength, and it could have dangerous consequences if we try to do anything about it._

_Then how did we transform into what we are now when Marta had our core? We were just a core then!_

_Uh, but we also were bonded with the Centurions._

_But they were asleep, right?_

_Yes, asleep, but still bonded with them nonetheless. Make sense?_

_Well, yeah, I guess ..._

_Heh. Congratulations on trying to be the exception of every natural law mortals have to follow._

_But we are the exception!_

_Because we aren't mortal._

Martel's Blood!

Ratatosk could be quite vengeful in ways that, surprisingly, didn't involve blood-splattered violence and certain strangling with one's own digestive tract with an evil laugh and some kind of insult to boot, though the insult part made itself apparent more subtly. Since Emil was still playing the active part of their human identity, Ratatosk made up for being confined within the mental institution of their pure mana structure by running mental circles around Emil that would make him very motion sick if the motions were to be followed in actual space.

Sometimes he wondered if Ratatosk would keep this split identity situation if only to have someone to poke fun at while they guarded the Ginnungagap. An entire eternity of nothing but that, sitting under the world at a great big door, having to endure the original summon spirit's mental exercises that always made excruciatingly obvious his ignorance of the summon spirit world and the world in general. How could Emil help that; his separate consciousness had been in existence for less than a year!

But however much Emil found annoying to have to deal with his spiritual brother-father-creator-in-some-way-thing, the said brother-father-creator-thing was right: he ought to pay more attention to actual space instead of the space inside his head. He hadn't realized he had spoken the words, "Can't we do something about this broken wrist," aloud until a great hulking shape approached him from the yonder depths of the woods.

The hulking shape, outline vague in whatever pale, feeble sunlight made it past all the natural, twisting barriers that blocked out the aforementioned wavelength, seemed to be two heads taller than Emil, with quite a lot more muscle mass. And it was standing just less than five feet before him. But before Emil could do so much as make his heart beat faster in whatever panic the imitation hormones would induce, the hulking shape spoke.

And the great hulking shape said:

_"I_ can do something about that broken wrist."

-

Richter was glad he knew healing artes; he wasn't the best healer, but with time and practice, he'd improve, and with Emil continually taking the fall for whatever blunder that should have gotten Aster hurt, he'd be a world-class miracle worker by the time they found him again. Though Aster could be a softie when he wanted to; the Grave spell hadn't done more than bruise Richter, but that could also be explained by the human's inexperience with wielding magic. Either way was fine.

He could take whatever volleys of magic Aster wanted to throw at him, whatever physical blows that had once not hurt at all that were steadily gaining power as he traveled and fought, but the one thing about Aster that made Richter want to crawl in the belly of the next great monstrosity was how the human _worried._

Aster was not a silent worrier. Normally he was absolutely, embarrassingly, carefree, but when it counted and something happened that might result in extreme bodily injury or even loss of life, the guilt--even if it wasn't his fault, as Richter tried over and over to assure him--ate away at him. This Aster made plain as if something really were eating him alive. And Richter was really going to take a fork and eat Aster alive if he wouldn't _shut up._

"By the Good Goddess Martel, what would I tell his parents, his siblings if he's got any, his extended family, again if he's got any, that in my care I blinded him and then because of me he fell down a hill in the Forest of Death and probably hurt the broken wrist even more--the broken wrist that was my fault because I left my bag on the ground--Martel, if you can find it in--"

And so on it went. Ripplescale didn't even have proper ears, but she shied away from the absolute howling the scientist was making, Arbor was hiding behind Richter's leg in fright, and Quartz was nowhere to be in sight. If the lady spider wasn't bonded to this eccentric Knight of Ratatosk, Richter had a feeling she would have promptly spun the human a nice, snug, soundproof silk cocoon and then have him over for lunch.

Solum was, if anything, amused, interjecting Aster's guilt-ridden yells with such remarks like, "you'll attract even more monsters like that, I expect, or maybe they'll get scared and run away," and "Lord Emil will be fine, he's survived this long, hasn't he?" Which, Richter had to admit, wasn't doing much for hell-screamer Aster.

Richter wished fervently he knew how to silence people by magic. Unfortunately, he didn't, so he gave in to his conscience and did the next best thing: he unsheathed his sword, and promptly struck Aster into unconsciousness with the pommel.

The human's shrill noises of worriment ceased into blissful nothingness, the only noise that of his body hitting the hard ground with a thump. As if this were a normal every day occurrence, and in Richter's case it very nearly was, he hoisted Aster's unaware body over his shoulder and continued walking.

Feeling Solum's greatly amused gaze in the back of his neck, Richter gave a sigh into the otherwise unbroken silence and gave up all hope of ever being in the company of emotionally sane, or even healthy, people ever again.

If he ever had been in such company.

-

As Emil had found with his other two-years-younger friends, it was incredibly difficult not to cop up the attitude of affable familiarity he had once shared with them. As Ratatosk had previously stated, these relationships would have to be built, developed, from scratch. Though a series of gashes in somebody's skin, or even in an inanimate object made poor building material, he would think.

So when Emil sat at the campfire, he tried not to look comfortable, metaphorically speaking, because really speaking, it was not comfortable sitting on the cold, hard ground, with sparks being thrown at your face by the campfire that dangerously provided your only source of warmth outside one's own body. Oh, plus a broken and broken-er wrist. Specifically, he tried not to look comfortable in the hulking shape's company.

Only he was not just a hulking shape. His clothes were scraggly, stitches were loose, dirt clung much too intimately to the fibers of both clothing and skin, and his long hair, though tied at the end, was little better than an untamable mane that would put a wild stallion to shame.

But Emil still recognized Regal Bryant.

"You must be in pain," Regal said in a voice that was much hoarser than Emil remembered it, "but I need all my energy to use a powerful healing arte, and I had to fight off an undertaker earlier."

Emil quirked a brow, bits of dried jerky Regal shared with him sticking out of his mouth. "An undertaker? You mean the guy who makes coffins?"

"Not a person," Regal assured him, opening a bottle with complete ease for a man whose wrists were shackled together with very thick iron cuffs that wore what looked like painful welts in his skin and bone. This Emil also wondered about but said nothing as Regal continued his recount.

"It's a demon or a ghoul-like entity of darkness that, for whatever reason, carries a coffin on its back but it contains no dead body."

"So ... it's empty?"

Regal shrugged, downing the pineapple gel that was in the bottle in one gulp. "In a manner of speaking; some mages theorize it's filled with unimaginable horrors that are only too easy to imagine. It differs from person to person as to what's actually in the coffin to them. The undertaker lets it out, but it pulls the victim in the coffin. And a coffin is a dreadfully confined space to face your unimaginable horror."

Emil slowly chewed his jerky, swallowed, and stared deeply into the campfire, whose light appeared pitifully small compared to Gaoracchia's supreme darkness closing in on it. The way the flame's size constantly shifted made it look as if it were afraid the darkness was going to do exactly that.

Regal put the empty bottle back in his bag--how he managed to carry that, Emil never quite worked that out, either--and quite abruptly grabbed Emil's broken wrist. Pain seared and flared in the appendage as Regal quickly pressured his fingers in certain places on Emil's arm, and feeling to his broken wrist completely ceased to be.

Emil didn't have time to yelp or make any noise that was an evolutionary mechanism to let other organisms know that he was in pain, might in fact be a burden to the rest, and better off left to the wolves so they can have their meal and the others can live to see another day until they get hurt in such a manner the process could repeat itself. He stared at his wrist, at his hand, just to make sure it was still there. He couldn't move it, but he hadn't been able to move it properly ever since it was first broken.

Then, with a quiet chant and a greenish white glow of magic, the shattered bones in Emil's wrist visibly corrected themselves, and though he still couldn't feel anything in that hand, he found he could move it. Properly, as if it had never been broken! When Regal examined the wrist and found it satisfactory, he reapplied pressure to the points in Emil's arm that would allow him to feel that limb again. There was a tingling sensation, and a dull ache that made him cringe but was nothing compared to when his wrist had been pitifully out of order.

Somehow this dull ache was more terrible than the severely injured wrist itself, but with Emil's worse injuries that was always the case. Amazed, he gaped at his perfectly revitalized wrist, rubbed it gingerly as if it were a precious treasure he'd never known he had. Which was quite true. Without that wrist, he couldn't hold a sword properly.

"Wow ... Thanks, Regal--" and at a strange, inquisitive look from the blue-haired noble gone whatever it was he was doing out in the Forest of Death, he stammered, "Yeah, regal, the way you did it. Most gentlemanly."

Regal still looked confused, but he shrugged it off with a simple, "Very nice of you, and it happens to be my name, though I hardly think being caked in mud and grime and monster's fluids make me appear gentlemanly."

Emil gave a subdued laugh, and as it died, he made a mental note to himself not to forget that he wasn't supposed to know his friends' names until they introduced themselves.

While he and Ratatosk then engaged in a heated mental debate about who should be playing the active role of human and being careful about what left their minds through their mouth, Regal had gone stiff, alert, the way a stag does when he senses danger. Unlike prey animals that bound off through the trees at the first sign of said danger, Regal slowly stood.

"What's wrong?" Emil asked, slightly alarmed and ignoring Ratatosk's magnified mental voice about how he was always right. Regal made a soft noise to indicate quiet, like a father does when he's about to go kill the offending predator threatening his children but his children have no idea what the father is up to.

"It's nothing. I'll get it."

Even those words were exactly the same, or the same general phrase used when a father was about to protect his family's lives, but somehow not in a way the family, or at least the children, would approve of. Regal was not a father, but he himself had heard children cry when he killed the rogue mountain lion that would have devoured at least one of them.

Fortunately, Emil was not a child, and would not object to the removal of such threats, but when the beasts leapt from the depths of the dark forest beyond, Emil actually threw himself before Regal, shouting so loudly it echoed,

_"No!"_

In the ring of the firelight of the makeshift camp, Emil could clearly see the forms of Titan and Leste.

--

A/N: I planned to write more, originally, but it's just not in me ... As for more sarcastic writing style than usual, I read a Discworld book. :D


	17. Dancer of Swords

A/N: I'm trying to get the action moving along, I really am! xD

--

Part XVII: Dancer of Swords

--

Surely this boy must have not only broken his wrist, but also hit his head incredibly hard, for he deliberately placed himself between Regal and two vicious looking monsters that had just leapt from the brush of Gaoracchia. This was called the Forest of Death for a reason, but this boy either would not see it or would not have it. Yet there must be some reason this lad ran up to death's door, so Regal grudgingly stopped his assault, though quite high-strung.

"Uh ..."

"Emil," the teenage boy supplied. "My name is Emil."

"Emil," Regal nodded. "Is there a reason you're defending these ... creatures?"

They were a strange find in the Forest of Death, home to malevolent plant monsters, ghosts, ghouls, and demons. The wolf looked like it might have an affinity to darkness, with its fur black as pitch and its eyes glowing a venomous gold. But the harpy ... it didn't even look like most other harpies, with bright emerald plumage instead of the usual drab brown. Its eyes had a gentle almond shape, with unimaginable depth for a monster. Both monsters did not move, though the wolf's muzzle wrinkled in contempt, those yellow eyes boring into Regal.

Emil nodded, though he looked cautious, and not of the monsters. This Regal understood with a slight shock. It wasn't as if Regal were the vicious creature about to rend people limb from limb.

"Right," Emil began, not without difficulty. "I know this looks weird to you--"

Weird? Regal thought in amazement. Never before had he seen anything like this!

"--but these monsters are tame. I raised them."

This was blurry ground. Regal had heard of wranglers capturing wild animals like winged dragons and such to ride and pull carriages, and smaller ones to tame as pets, but ... a wolf and a harpy? Emil had raised these things?

"You'll forgive me for doubting you, I hope," Regal whispered. He bore no ill will toward Emil, but those monsters made him just a little uneasy.

"I know," Emil sighed, shoulders slumped. However, he looked more annoyed, frustrated, than anything else. "I hate having to explain this everywhere I go! Bottom line is, I saved their lives, and now they answer to me. I got separated from them a while ago, and here they found me."

"Are they your only companions?" Regal asked, keeping his distance from the monsters, mostly the wolf. Safety in numbers was never truer than in a place like the Forest of Death, but normally people made their numbers in other people. He was inwardly relieved when Emil shook his head.

"No. I had two others with me, my friends. They should be looking for me now."

Never was there a more profound distance Emil felt between himself and one of his two-years-younger friends than at that moment staring at Regal. Though their actual distance was no more than five feet apart, there was a complete change in Regal's demeanor that clearly said he wanted nothing to do with those monsters, or those associated with monsters. Emil's heart sank. Regal was one of the people he had looked up to the most.

"W-well," the young man said after an uncomfortable silence, "if you want to part ways here, I understand." It was just like being in Luin all over again. Monsters attacking people outside the city, and the blame cast on him, even though he had nothing to do with monsters at the time. How ironic, he thought wryly, so short a time after that he was able to bond with monsters so easily.

"I bear no ill will toward you," Regal replied, but his stance was still uneasy. "It's just that ... they make me nervous. The wolf more than the harpy, mind. She doesn't seem as, well, evil as the harpies I've encountered before."

"Leste's quite gentle," Emil said with a smile at his feathery friend. "Titan is the one you should watch out for, though. He can be a bit difficult." As he spoke the wolf uttered a low, guttural growl. Its master glared at it, and after a full three seconds more of growling, it stopped, yet it still bared its fangs. They were almost blindingly white.

"Anyway," Emil continued, "where are you headed, Regal? I have to wait for my friends to find me." He was a bit surprised when Regal responded thus:

"Actually, I'm waiting for someone here in the forest, too." The blond teenager quirked a brow, how many people ventured in this Forest of Death? Titan began growling again, and he turned to tell off the wolf when he belatedly realized the wolf was not, had never been, growling at Regal.

-

A heaving sigh sounded over Richter's shoulder, and by that he knew Aster was awake. The researcher balled his hands into fists and began beating on Richter's back, with surprising strength, though not enough to do more than bruise.

"Gimme a First Aid for the bump on my head!"

"Good morning to you, too." Richter frowned, annoyed. First his friend was a beacon for monsters of unimaginable horror to come find them (some of which he had to dispatch after he knocked out Aster), now he was copping up an attitude. As if to read his mind, Solum came up to his side and said:

"Well, you did bonk him over the head a while ago. I'd be mad, too."

From the icy glare in Solum's eye, Richter knew he had scored no points with the Centurion of Earth. For all his easygoing demeanor and childlike appearance, he was a loyal servant of the spirit Ratatosk and took matters of his lot seriously. That included monsters of his element ... as well as the Knight who commanded them. Striking Aster in the head--where Solum's core was kept--was perhaps not the smartest move to make.

Groaning, Richter promptly dropped Aster to the ground and flung a First Aid in the boy's general direction. Before Aster could open his mouth to say anything at all, his half-elf friend said harshly, "If you want to find Emil, shut up, be quiet, and follow Solum." He could feel the Centurion's glowering in the back of his head; speaking such a way to his Knight was also a no-no. But Richter needed that point stressed, that to find Emil alive they had to be alive. Nonetheless Solum led the way through the pitch black woods.

-

Emil noticed it too late, but Regal had no clue what Titan had been trying to warn them against. Leste took wing in the forest canopy, Emil lunged himself at Regal, tackling him to the earth. A whooshing noise disrupted the air, and a number of tree branches rained on them. All bore marks of being sliced from their trees. Emil darted to his feet, broadsword in hand. After weeks of being idle, it felt comforting to have his weapon back where it belonged. Regal righted himself, confused and alarmed.

"Emil, what in Martel's name--"

"I don't know. But whatever it is ..." he cut himself off, looking down at the felled tree limbs. A sword or an axe had to have sliced those off the forest canopy, yet they also had to be large weapons. Not even the Tethe'allan Royal Army forged weapons so big. A foreboding chill ran down Emil's spine.

Leste's singing filled the air, a soft greenish light mingling with the crimson of the campfire. The Turbulence forced the creature out in the open, within the fire's ring of light. Titan darted around its feet, but his teeth and claws were nigh useless, and for good reason. Emil's eyes went wide.

An undead demon stood before them, a skeleton twice as big as a normal man, with horns curling out of its skull, a long bony tail sweeping behind it. It had four arms, each holding cruel weapons of the strongest steel--what had cut down those tree branches. An evil energy radiated from the skull's empty eye sockets, and the chilled feeling embraced Emil's entire being.

_It's from the demon's realm, from beyond the Ginnungagap._

_My thoughts exactly._

By now Regal saw it, too, and though his body showed no sign of fear, Emil could sense it from him, and see it in his eyes. "By the Goddess ..." Even humans could feel the sheer evil reeking from this elite demon of Niflheim. This creature must be the very reason Gaoracchia was known as the Forest of Death.

"Regal, get away from here!" Emil shouted as he began battle with the demon. It was much harder than fighting a normal swordsman, as this thing used four giant blades, each the size of a grown man. Leste's magic helped throw off its balance by a small amount, and Titan could at least endeavor to trip the demon, but all in all it was up to Emil's own power to best it.

Sparks rained on the ground and every vibration as five swords clashes rang throughout Emil's entire being. With only one Centurion bound to him, with only a fraction of his power, battling a higher class demon was proving extremely difficult. Reluctantly, Emil queried in the deepest recesses of his mind.

_Ratatosk, could you handle something like this?_

_Better than you are, I imagine. Do you want me to help?_

Pain erupted in Emil's side as a whirlwind of blades generated by the demon sent him flying into the trunk of a tree.

_Do you really have to ask that? Do whatever you have to do, just kill that thing!_

It was hard to relinquish control of himself after holding onto it, fighting for it, for so long. But done was done, and his eyes glowed red in the darkness of the woods. Even within his mind, he felt the immense power of the earth in his very bones. Mana was gathering in Ratatosk's blade, glowing with the energy of pure life, as it had the first time he used this attack. Half the wood must have been illuminated with so bright a beacon.

_"Ain Soph Aur!"_

-

Aster's forehead began to glow, dimly at first, then steadily pulsing with power, with light. It radiated an earthen gold, bleeding out to become pure white light. Richter blinked, staggering backward as the light grew in intensity. As Solum's core brightened, the Centurion's own form bled color, became translucent, like a ghost or an apparition. Alarmed, Aster cried out,

"Solum! What's happening?"

Solum shrugged, but he wore a satisfied smile. "Lord Emil is calling on our power. We may want to find him soon, for he wouldn't demand so much power unless his life was threatened."

No sooner had the Centurion of Earth finished speaking that the eastern regions of the woods exploded with the same white light shining from beneath Aster's brow. Without a doubt, both Aster and Richter knew with a jolt that the source of that light was Emil, and whatever danger he faced. With no more than a nod, they bolted into the blinding light.

-

Emil ducked, cradled in the gnarled roots of a large tree. The demon lunged forward, but its bones were less animated as it made to run Emil through. Its sword lodged deeply in the thick tree trunk, its eye sockets' evil light fading. The other swords noisily dropped to the earth, its bones dissolving in darkness. Emil's eyes returned to their usual green color, and he shook with adrenaline, heart hammering.

_So ends the Sword Dancer._

_Huh ... you know this demon?_

_One of the first to break through the Ginnungagap centuries ago. It opened the way for most of the demons and undead in the worlds today. But I have a strange feeling ... this demon is not bested so easily._

_But it's gone for now, right?_

_For now._

Emil stood, careful not to touch the large sword buried to the hilt in the tree trunk. Leste hovered down from where she had perched, singing a soft First Aid over her master's hurts. He sighed as soothing light bathed his skin. For all the harpies' bad reputations, they were among his favorite monsters. The wolf was missing, though. He had not seen Titan in the Sword Dancer's final moments. He looked in the blackness of the woods.

"Titan? Where are you?"

Regal was nowhere to be found, something Emil was grateful for. He would live, hadn't seen his end here. A large shape emerged from the foliage beyond. Emil held up his sword, afraid of another demon ambushing him. When the shape entered the firelight, the teenager's jaw dropped and he stepped back. Then he recognized Titan.

He was not the small black wolf he had been when Ratatosk first bound him to his will near the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge. He was half the size of the Sword Dancer, a very large wolf indeed. His fur was still black, but now he also had a flowing mane of ice blue. He threw his elegant head back and let loose a howl that rang throughout the forest. Emil's heart panged.

_Sial ..._

Sial had been the first Fenrir wolf Emil had ever raised, two years in the future, and was one of Emil's most steadfast companions. He was the wolf Tenebrae had made him tame in Lumen's caves. But Sial was much different in personality than Titan. Though they looked alike, Emil had to remind himself this was Titan, not Sial.

_Let's go. The others are waiting for us._

_... Yeah. Let's go._

With Leste and Titan at his sides, Emil followed the line of power that connected him to Solum.


	18. For the Love of Martel!

A/N: It's official. I'm going to drive myself crazy trying to keep up with three stories at once xD DAMN YOU ROYAL GUARD BUT OMG I LOVE YOU. It's when I start blending in all three plots at once that you know I have officially gone insane. Imagine a battle against Past!Ratatosk with Raven singing Yulia's hymns, Lloyd flashing out his wings and using healing/fonic artes at every opportunity, and Aster glomping Richter and Emil—mid-battle—declaring his undying love for them both just in case they don't make it out alive. Yeah.

Also, originally I wanted Emil and Co to be at the Temple of Lightning at the same time Sheena goes to make the pact with Volt, but there is still the matter of Presea and getting her a real Key Crest, etc. I'm going to put a twist on the events leading up to it for those of you that have been patiently waiting for this story to pick up action wise. Believe it or not it drives me crazy when too little action happens xD

--

Part XVIII: Cauda Draconis

--

Emil must really have the worst of the most rotten luck. He had followed the line of Solum's power, the steady thrum of the earth in his bones growing stronger as he walked through the brush toward it, the newly formed Fenrir Titan at his side and the same harpy Leste fluttering above him, though she couldn't go too far upward for the impossibly thick tree canopy. After at least twenty straight minutes of blindly navigating the woods, he came upon a clearing … full to the brim with Papal Knights. The soldiers had made a camp complete with campfire but it didn't appear they planned to stay long in the Forest of Death. They stopped, frozen, staring at the newcomer who had inadvertantly walked into their midst. Leaf green eyes went wide as he stared back, blinking owlishly.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the knights demanded, his voice echoing through his metal helmet.

"Hey," another knight said, pointing a gauntlet gloved hand at the teenager that still stood parting wild plants before him, "isn't that the Sylvaranti the Imperial Research Academy found at the Otherworldly Gate?"

_Hey, Emil, we're famous! _

_That's not something to be proud over!_

_Jeez, you really are no fun. If you're not tripping over your own tongue, you've got a sword up your rear._

Emil pointedly ignored the mental jab, focusing his attention on the Papal Knights before him. He supposed it was a rather large discovery by Tethe'allan standards, finding a Sylvaranti, proving the existence of the mirror world and the functionality of the Otherworldly Gate at that. Mix in that these Knights were undoubtedly looking for criminals to Tethe'alla, like Richter, himself, Aster, and the traitorous Chosen One, and it was a disaster just waiting to happen.

"What if I was?" Emil asked, stepping carefully into the clearing, away from the shrubs and trees of the dark woods from whence he came. He used the link with his monsters to order them to stay hidden, until he needed them to help. He could also still feel Solum approaching, and relayed to him to stay the course, but be careful.

This seemed to take the Papal Knight by surprise. "W-well, it's nothing personal, just that as a Sylvaranti you're not supposed to be traveling Tethe'alla … and you're associated with the traitor Chosen and those rogue researchers from the Academy in Sybak …" He was different from the other Papal Knights that Emil, Richter, and Aster had fought in the woods near the University Town. Instead of unquestioning action, he had a head about his shoulders, and felt empathy for at least one of his quarry.

"Long story short," the captain of the squad of Papal Knights, whose green armor was hemmed in gold instead of silver, "if you won't come quietly, we'll have to take you by force."

Promptly Ratatosk's mind exploded.

_Did you hear that?! Are you gonna let him get away with it?_

… _Get away with what? He's telling the truth, if I resist they will have to arrest me by force._

_Wow, you are so much more dense than I originally thought. Think about it. Take. You. By. Force._

_I still don't get it, but whatever._

Emil could almost see Ratatosk slapping a palm to his forehead. He shrugged it off, he had a potentially life or death matter on his hands, and he had too much to worry about already without trying to figure out Ratatosk's rather oddball trains of thought. He spread his feet a little more than shoulder width apart, his newly healed hand slipping comfortably about the hilt of his broadsword belted to his back. It'd been nearly two weeks since he last participated in a battle, but he'd spent so much more time than that when he had been teaching himself how to fight.

The Knights spotted this and fanned out, rather like a pack of wolves stalking after their prey, ready to make the kill. Even without his other self egging him on, he found it was easy, almost too easy, to slide back into the ritual of battle. There were five Papal Knights, of course much more than Emil would ordinarily be able to fight on his own. But he was not on his own. He whistled, and Titan leapt as a black-blue blur from the brush, slamming two Knights to the earth. Following the Fenrir, Leste hovered a few feet above the ground, singing for a magic arte in her sweet voice. Her Turbulence knocked away another Knight, leaving Emil to face two.

Emil swung up his sword to parry the first Knight's halberd, slashing at the armor with a Blade Fury; he'd planned to knock one of the knights away, but all that heavy armor they wore, he doubted he could lift that much weight without his Centurions' help. He dodged an attack, leaping behind one knight in a Dark Radiance, scoring some hits on the way down. Sparks flew as sword clashed with spear, and vividly Emil was reminded of the time Ratatosk floored the Martel Knights in Luin. Come to think of it, these knights were no different from the Martel Knights in the future, even if they were a suborganization of the Sylvaranti Vanguard. They were the military force created as an extension of the authority of the Church of Martel, of a religion paying homage to a false goddess. He still couldn't believe, even now, that what Raine had explained in Meltokio's cathedral was actually true.

He couldn't quite blame the Papal Knights for doing what they did; people needed a faith of some sort, whether it was in a goddess with her army of angels or summon spirits, or even not a deity at all but in something concrete they knew for sure existed like science. But that did not make it any easier to swallow, the thought of people, innocent people like Colette or Zelos raised for nothing more than to lose their humanity through the angel rituals. Lambs to the slaughter, sacrificed to the gods above to save a world doomed to die.

With that thought, Emil suddenly found the armor the Knights wore not to be very thick or tough after all. With a disturbing ease he thrust into the body of one knight, kicking him off his broadsword as the other charged him. He caught the blow with the flat of his blade, twisting the head of the halberd away, and the knight before him cursed as his wrist was pushed into a direction it was not meant to go. The spear dropped heavily to the earth underfoot, and in less than three seconds, the knight collapsed in a heap to join it.

Leste had disposed of her enemy with another wind spell and her own cruel talons, Titan's muzzle was splashed red. That easily, he and his monsters had made quick work of their enemies, outnumbered by two. The earth underfoot was stained dark, almost black, even in the impossible darkness that was the Forest of Death. Grimacing, Emil cleaned off his sword, shoving it back in its scabbard. He hated killing, whether it were monsters or people. But people had betrayed him, so many thousands of years ago. While Emil never knew the full story, Ratatosk had said a summoner he'd made a pact with so long ago had sealed him in the Ginnungagap, usurpsed his role as administer of mana, guardian of the world tree, and lord of all beasts. The world had wronged them, and they were merely taking back what was theirs.

_Even if that's true, I still don't like thinking that way._

_Tch. You're not human. Why do you insist on acting like one?_

… _Because I've always wanted to be human._

"Emil!"

Into the firelight of the Papal Knights' came burst forth the people he'd been wanting to see for the last few hours: Aster, ever happy-go-lucky despite the rigors of travel and fighting, Richter walking stiffly like he always did, somehow not a strand of his dark red hair out of place, and Solum walking between them with his preferred appearance of an earthen elvish child. Gold eyes winked from under the half moon spectacles.

"Ah, Lord Emil. I trust you're well?"

Emil nodded, a small grin on his face. "Yeah. Just fine, Titan and Leste found me."

At the mention of the dark wolf, Aster and Richter's eyes simultaneously stuck to the giant wolf iced with blue fur, sitting on the bodies of a pair of unfortunate Papal Knights. Sucking in surprised breath, they examined the clearing, seeing three more Knights' corspes, the blood splattered on the monsters and even on Emil's own face. Cast in an oddly dark glow courtesy of the small campfire, Emil had the look of a swordsman hardened by the rigors of war.

"Wow," Aster craned his neck to look up at Titan, unfazed even when a drop of warm blood fell on his face from the wolf's own muzzle. Oblivious or uncaring that Titan could snap his head off with one bite, he reached up to thread his fingers through the monster's fur, surprisingly soft. "So this is what it's like when monsters evolve?"

"It's different even in the same family," Emil supplied, watching carefully. Sial had been a gentle Fenrir, if that were possible. Titan had already been very … rough, having lived in these woods and later been driven out to prey on hapless travelers instead of his proper and natural quarry. "Titan turned into a Fenrir, a wolf associated with ice elemental mana."

"So, the Papal Knights attacked you?" Richter asked, his eyes hidden under the glare of light coming from the campfire.

"Yeah. They still wanted to arrest us and the Chosen Ones, so, of course …"

Richter pushed his slipping glasses into place, chin inclined downward. "I understand." But he couldn't quite shake that haunting image of Emil in the dark firelight, blood splashed on his face. Then he noticed something, blinking. "Wait, Emil, how did you fight with your wrist? Did you let your monsters fight for you?" Even as he spoke he knew that wasn't the case; the knights at Emil's feet bore wounds that were obviously inflicted by a broadsword.

Emil held up his sword hand, flexing his wrist to show that it was as good as new. "I met someone in the woods. He was an experienced healer, and fixed up my wrist like it was nothing!"

"Oh …" There was a strangely crestfallen tone in Richter's voice, which Aster picked up on immediately.

"Hey, are you jealous?" Aster asked, nonchalantly wiping the blood that dripped from Titan off his face. "That you couldn't even fix a broken wrist with your artes, but a random stranger can?"

Richter considered saying no, but that was dishonest, and it wouldn't get past this lot. "Actually, yes. I've studied magic and anatomy, but I guess I just need more practice …"

Solum flashed a winning smirk. "Then with all the falls Lord Emil has been taking for Aster, you should be a world-class miracle worker by the time our journey is done, Richter."

Richter heaved a sigh. "Sadly, I'm inclined to agree with that."

-

Though Solum's core acted as an Exsphere for Aster (an extremely enhanced Exsphere, allowing him to use magic even though he was human), Richter did not have an Exsphere, and neither did Emil (he wouldn't have needed one if he had all his Centurions, but as he had only one bound to him, it was better to be safe than sorry). As they hadn't been able to locate the Exsphere broker Vharley, the likeliest place they were to get some short of going to Sylvarant and invading a Desian stronghold was the residence of the dwarf Altessa.

Altessa's house lay in the farthest reaches of these woods, preceeded by a quiet, sprawling town nestled in large trees winding in elegant coils—the Quiescent Village, Ozette. Richter did not want to go to Ozette. He'd heard of it. It was Kate's birthplace, and the home of the Pope of the Church of Martel before he came to his power. It was a nice little place to live in the country, away from the polluted, crowded cities like Meltokio and Sybak. There was one thing in particular that made Richter want to keep his distance: the village of Ozette was known specifically for its contempt for half-elves.

True, nearly all of Tethe'alla was the same in this regard; the caste system proved it well enough. But at least trapped in Sybak, Richter had a life, he had friends in the other half-elves in the Academy, and he even found the little pocket of happiness that was Aster. All things considered, Richter's life in Sybak had been favorable as far as a half-elf's prospects in a world as unforgiving as Tethe'alla went. So understandably he was nervous as they inevitably came closer and closer to the village that stood between them and Altessa's house.

By all rights, though, Richter could pass himself off as either a human or a full-blooded elf, as his long hair hid his ears and depending on whether he had to use magic in the presence of the people of Ozette. Even then, it wasn't as if the general public of Tethe'alla were especially knowledgable about Exspheres; he could always claim to have one that allowed him to use magic. He didn't like the idea of lying, but as he already broke Tethe'allan caste law by going outside the Academy without permission, what more could it do? This caste law … he often wondered what they would do if the Papal or Royal Knights caught up to them. Aster had said before that if they were caught, he would use his influence in the Academy to spare Richter's life, if not his freedom.

Richter knew it was a good idea, as good as any if that happened. A mind such as Aster's was not one the Imperial Research Academy could afford to lose. However, even if he could save Richter, what could Aster do for Emil, who was not only a Sylvaranti but a Knight of the long-dormant, long-forgotten Summon Spirit Ratatosk, who was the spirit of the Giant Tree of everflowing mana? Richter had always thought the Giant Tree was a fairy tale, but if anything, the elves vouched for its existence, and Emil himself, as Ratatosk's Knight, was proof, not just in and of himself but also for the monsters he bonded with and the Centurion Solum. Like the Academy sought to use Sheena Fujibayashi with her summoning arts as a form of power, they might in turn try to turn Emil into a Tethe'allan weapon. For all Emil's demure demeanor, he didn't strike Richter as someone who would let himself be used for something like that.

And even if he did let that happen, Centurion Solum as well as the monsters Emil had bonded with would not let that happen. Richter sensed their presence surrounding them in the woods nearby as they entered the village, dark and quiet like a shadow, but always there when you turned around. He knew he could trust Aster's monsters, as Arbor was but a tiny little thing, and Quartz was introspective, not interested in anything unless it immediately dangered herself or her master. He could trust Ripplescale, even though the water drake had dragged him through the ocean under the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge, and he could trust Leste, the faithful harpy that saved Emil quite a few times. The one monster Richter felt he could not trust, was the giant wolf that grew into a Fenrir—Titan. He had a feeling that the wolf was loyal to one person and one alone, his master, Emil, the Knight of Ratatosk. If Richter or Aster were to get in his way, Titan would not think twice about tearing them apart. As much as monsters _could _think.

"What's wrong, Richter?" Richter used to always know who spoke in that voice. But with the advent of Emil who was physically identical to Aster in almost every way, he had to look to see just who it was that spoke. But, he thought with the ghost of a smile, he was beginning to tell the difference between their voices if only by the tone they used. Aster's eyes were fixed on him as they made their way to the inn—it was late afternoon, molten orange gold in the skies melting before the darkness of night, and after the ordeal they all went through in the Forest of Death, they would need to rest even when Altessa's house was just around the corner.

"Is it this village?" Aster continued in a quiet voice. What with the lateness of the day, there were hardly any villagers out and about, and those that were had immediately thought their crew human for their appearance, blissfully unaware that one of the half-elves they so despised was right under their nose, and staying in their very own inn. "I'm sorry, but we have to rest up before we go on, and behind village walls is safer than the wilderness, even with our companions."

The inn, Green Meadows, was a cozy, comfortable little place, every Tethe'allan city-dweller's ideal of what it would be like to stay in the country. Of course, with the reappearance of monsters, those city people would be evermore eager to stay in their cramped apartments with all those loud noises and polluted air. Richter shook his head as Emil paid for their rooms at the counter.

"I know, Aster. I wouldn't make us sleep outside because of that. I was just thinking."

"About what? I know you like to get lost into thought, but you've been doing that more and more often lately." He tilted his head to one side, brow knit as he thought on it. "Actually, ever since Emil was brought to the Academy."

"Yes," Richter replied softly. He was worried for a lot of things on their impromptu journey, but Emil was what he worried about most of all. The Desian that told him to report anything he discovered must have been talking about Emil, or at least alluding to him if he knew. Even if it turned out that Emil was no Desian created weapon, the Desians could use him as such. Just who was it that Aurum served, and how could the Desians travel between the worlds when they were supposed to wreak havoc on the declining world? But for Desians, incarnations of pure evil, they would do anything for power.

"Are you having doubts about awakening Ratatosk? Of going against Cruxis if they have purposely made Ratatosk dormant?"

Cruxis. The holy beings, angels, worshipped by the Church of Martel, the servants of the sleeping goddess. Richter hadn't known exactly how he felt about the Goddess Martel, or the Cruxis. He knew Cruxis and Martel were the ones that created their world, or at least the strange celestial system that had the two worlds stealing mana from each other like a twisted hourglass. If they did create the system, then for their purposes of reviving the sleeping goddess, it wouldn't be so farfetched to think they would have sealed Ratatosk. They did so to the other Summon Spirits of both worlds, after all. They needed to control the mana, control the appearance of monsters in order to have both worlds trapped under their iron fist.

"If it is true that Cruxis twisted the nature of the worlds, to artificially control the mana and monsters … then I don't think awakening Ratatosk is a bad thing. But will Cruxis allow it, to just sit back and let it happen? For that matter, are we the only ones rebelling against them in this way?"

"Of course not!" Aster retorted. From across the way, toward the hall where their rooms were, Emil was giving them a quizzical glance. "The Renegades said they planned to overthrow this Cruxis system of two worlds vying for mana. So we're not the only ones defying Cruxis."

"But the Renegades are a vertiable army," Richter replied through grit teeth. "And we're just three people with some monsters and a Centurion that acts like a child! If the Cruxis or Desians were to catch up to us—"

"_Who _acts like a child?"

"—I have no idea how we'd even come out of that alive."

Richter ignored the way the Centurion of Earth had suddenly appeared at his side, smiling widely but those golden eyes of his narrowed, betraying that he was not amused in the least. Aster gave his patron Centurion a quick grin, but the better part of his attention was clearly focused on Richter. His own eyes narrowed to match Solum's, and the his hands were on his hips would even have been almost comical if they topic they were discussing wasn't so serious.

"I'm disappointed in you. You of all people should know, courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality!"

"Having courage to fulfill one's goals is one thing," Richter said irritably, his voice steadily rising in the hallway, "going up against the entire order of angels that rule the two worlds and the Desians is something else entirely! If anything, we're doomed to fail!" He was almost yelling now, all his apprehensions and doubts pouring out in that one sentence. Aster glared at him, the only one of their group to know Richter particularly well, and he knew to expect something like this from him sooner or later. Richter was a realist, to a fault, and more often than not it bordered and crossed over to downright pessimism. It was only natural that it would, for all Richter claimed that being a half-elf didn't bother him, his feelings always manifested themselves in this habit of his.

But Emil, who had just been about to enter his room, froze, emerald eyes wide, jaw slack. He'd never thought Richter would denounce his goal of awakening Ratatosk, awakening the Centurions to restore the proper balance of mana and have the Spirit fulfill its role as lord of all monsters. He'd never thought the man would, much less use the words _doomed to fail. _For everything Emil was out here doing, as much for Richter as for himself and the world, that cut more deeply than he would like to admit. To save the world all the grief it would suffer if left alone, all those people and cities … and most of all, save Richter himself, to save Aster … was all of it truly doomed to fail? Should he just lie down, let Lloyd and the others do their thing, let his past self murder Aster and set the course for Richter down his path of well-meaning madness? No, of course not. This meant more to him than the world itself.

But that didn't mean Richter would have to come with him.

"Richter." Emil said, his voice oddly flat but rigid and hard, quite unlike his usual soft tone. "If that's what you truly think … if this journey is doomed to fail, you don't have to come with me." He cast a quick look at Aster, whose expression went wild in bewilderment. "Or you, Aster. You two can just go do your own thing, I can awaken the Centurions myself." He opened the door, stepped over the threshold. He looked over his shoulder at Richter. "Good luck living in Tethe'alla." With that, he slammed the door shut.

Silence rang throughout the air, defeaning, heavy and oppressive. Aster threw it to the ground and crushed it under his heel.

"Richter!" He snarled, closing the distance between them in one stride. "It's fine if you're having doubts, but that doesn't mean you had to shout it to Emil!"

"I did not shout it at Emil! I was only yelling because you're being far too laid back about the entire situation!"

"Nonetheless you hurt him! You called everything he was doing, everything he was working for pointless and meaningless! You know how hard it is for anyone to make a difference, much less one that matters?! I don't know how he came across a Centurion, or became a Knight of Ratatosk. But it's clear he has the will, and the power, to make a change that matters, a change that these two worlds need! The worlds need to stop vying for mana and to start _living! _And it all begins with waking Ratatosk, administrator of the world's mana, to take that role from the Cruxis! If Cruxis can't control the mana, we can find a way to make it so that the worlds don't have to be this way!"

That struck silence in Richter. All he could think about was the immense opposition they would meet from Cruxis when inevitably mere mortals tried to change the laws of the worlds the angels created, and undoubtedly from the people of Tethe'alla itself. Not once had he thought anything of Emil aside from his unique powers and what others would use them for if they had a holf of him, not once had he considered something as trivial as _feelings. _Richter had always been taught to be objective; it was beaten into him as long as he had been at the Imperial Research Academy. For half-elves working there, feelings were only a distraction. Half-elves had no need for feelings.

Aster had cut through his solid exterior and brought back his feelings. Even scientists could have those and tend to their work. But now Richter was falling back into old habits, being ruthlessly objective to the point he inadvertantly hurt the people around him. His eyes dropped to gaze at the floor, ashamed.

"So … it's not just about your thesis anymore?"

"Of course not. I mean, yes, I always believed there was a relationship between mana and monsters, and Emil, Solum, and the monsters pretty much prove everything I hypothesized. But after thinking about it this deeply, about what Cruxis does in controlling the mana, the nature of the two worlds … how could I just turn my back on it after I get my thesis done? Recognition in the scientific world means _nothing _compared to this."

Richter said nothing for a time. It was true, wasn't it? Ratatosk was so important to the world, that it lasted for this long was only thanks to Cruxis, and what it had done was thankless in and of itself since they usurped the role of the Summon Spirit of the Giant Kharlan Tree. Aster could help the world he always thought was in the wrong, for oppressing half-elves just for being half-elves, for the revered angels of Cruxis creating such a cruel system of one world victimizing the other. He, like Richter, hated the world they lived in, and what was a written paper in the face of changing what they hated?

"I'm … sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

"I know—hey, Aster, what are you—"

Aster had grabbed him by the arm and was now pushing him in the direction of Emil's room. Richter glanced over his shoulder, and though there was a huge idiotic grin plastered on his friend's face, the look in his eyes was completely serious.

"If you don't make up with him, he's probably going to go off on his own in the morning! Then how will we find him? If we're not there he's going to end up getting hurt."

Richter thought of two answers to that. They had Centurion Solum, or at least his core, in Aster's forehead and they could always use that to find Emil. As for the other, it was obvious that the only times Emil had gotten hurt, it was because of something stupid Aster had done. When he fell out of that tree in the woods near Sybak, it was because Aster had left his bag with their key items on the ground. The teenager's happy fall in the Forest of Death was because Aster had blinded him with the Sorcerer's Ring. But Richter chose not to say that; if he did Aster would probably do something drastic. Exactly what it was he didn't know, but knowing Aster …

"Okay, okay, no need to shove." Richter grabbed the door knob, knocking a few times to let Emil know he was going to be coming in. He slowly opened the door, inched a foot over the threshold—

"And for the love of Martel, _do not _be afraid to kiss him if you have to!"

If they weren't in Ozette and had to keep the fact he was a half-elf a secret, Richter _would_ have shot off a Tidal Wave that time.

-

Once upon a time, Emil would have been elated if Richter decided to visit him of his own volition. He had always looked up to Richter, would have done anything if only he could help him just a little bit longer. For the first time in his life, Emil didn't want to even so much as _look _at Richter. He'd heard the muffled voices of Aster and Richter out in the hallway, no doubt arguing. He'd heard the door open, heard the first tentative footsteps on the hardwood floor. Emil lay back on his bed, hands folded behind his head, glaring daggers in the ceiling.

"Emil." Richter said, his voice sounding no different than the usual. As if he hadn't just taken everything that meant anything to Emil and smashed it under his boot.

_So even you can get pissed off._

_Of course I can. Even though we're only here by accident … the only reason I'm doing this is for him. _

… _If Richter weren't important to you, you wouldn't do anything different?_

_I wouldn't. I'd let everything happen all over again, because I had friends, I had people … people who loved me. But I can't ever hate Richter or just strike him down, even given what he was trying to do …_

Even then the extent of Richter's plan in the future had never been apparent to Emil. He knew Richter had made pacts with the demons of Niflheim to bring Aster back to life if he opened the Ginnungagap, allowing them to cross over the dimensional boundary into the world. The only reason Emil could think of, of Richter allowing the world to die in exchange for his one friend … was that Aster's death had driven him mad. In saving Aster, Emil could save not just the man himself, but Richter, and by saving Richter he could save the entire world. Ratatosk was amused.

_Richter doesn't know just how damn lucky he is._

"Richter." Emil replied tonelessly, still concentrating on the eaves above, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact. He sighed. "I meant what I said before. You don't have to come along if you don't want to."

"I can't do that, and you know it." Richter sounded miffed, annoyed. "Not just because I'm a half-elf that can't go back to the Academy because I ran away from it."

"You didn't run away from it, Aster pretty much dragged you along."

"He did not, and given the opportunity to leave, why the hell would I stay in that place? I'm not a person in the Academy, just another half-elf they can use to carry out their twisted experiments!" He was on the verge of yelling again, his voice raised above his normal, calm, level tone.

"But you want to come along, truly?" Emil shot back. He sat upright, finally turning to look at Richter. "You want to come along a journey that's _doomed to fail?"_

"Not because of any incompetence on anyone's part!" Richter spat angrily. "Do you honestly believe that Cruxis will just sit back and let us sabotage their control of the worlds' mana? If it were just us traveling around and awakening the Centurions, that would have been fine. But the army of angels that serve the Goddess Martel might beg to differ!"

Richter resisted the powerful urge to bite down on his tongue. He was doing it again, not five minutes after he'd intruded on Emil for the sole purpose of making it up to the lad for his earlier harsh words. He kept telling himself was being a realist, just looking at the probable, but exactly where did the objective Richter end and the pessimist Richter begin? Aster would say right now he was being slightly realistic, the rest pessimistic.

"… They might come after us." Emil said after a few moments of silence. "But Cruxis's goal is to revive the Goddess Martel. So if anything, they'll focus more on Lloyd and the others seeing how they have the Chosen who's supposed to become her vessel."

The crimson-haired half-elf gave a sigh, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I'm … sorry, Emil. I know this journey is important to you, and I just … I'm a little worried, that's all."

His words echoed over and over in the heavy silence that followed. _Doomed to fail. _Such a terrible thing to say.

Emil gave a mirthless laugh. "A little? Ah, well, it's not as if you're wrong for being worried about that. It's only that … this journey, awakening the Centurions, Ratatosk … means more to me than you could ever know. More than the world itself."

Not knowing what else to do, Richter came closer to Emil, taking small, quiet steps. He studied the young man's face, bathed in the silvery moonlight pouring in from the window. In those eyes, bright verdant like the leaves of a springtime tree, there was a light of sorrow, regret, anger … and fear. So, even Emil himself had doubts about this journey, facing impossible odds.

"I'm sorry. Truly."

At that, Emil chortled, surprising Richter. "Stop apologizing. It doesn't suit you."

"You're starting to sound like Aster."

"Well, I _did _spend an entire month and then some rooming with him."

"Anyway, I just wanted to say that, and neither Aster or I are ever going to let you go on such a crazy journey, defying Cruxis, alone. If we left you alone, you'd get hurt terribly."

Emil laughed, and finally, he looked up at Richter, verdant eyes meeting jade. "Three against thousands are slightly better odds than one, huh?"

Unable to help himself, Richter's lips stretched into a small smile of his own. "Only just." His keen half-elvish hearing picked up the sound of the door opening ever so slightly, and like an ominous shadow, he could feel Aster peeking inside, to see whether they were truly making up or biting one another's heads off. He turned his head just enough to see Aster out of the corner of his eye. His crazy human friend was smirking like a smart ass, cupping a hand around his mouth and whispering.

"_Do not _be afraid to kiss him if you have to!"

Richter sighed, slapping a palm to his forehead.

--

A/N: DR is officially back, with increasingly shonen-ai overtones. You know you all love it, this _did _start out as a Richter/Aster/Emil crackfic, after all. Now it just has a plot. Hahah.


	19. The Not So Unfriendly Dwarf

A/N: Go figure, I forget exactly what I was going to do to put a twist on the events where Presea gets her key crest and such. I know it was supposed to up the action and make her get the crest faster, but beyond that … I can't remember. D'oh.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't make profit, etc.

Part XIX: The Unfriendly Dwarf

Obtaining an Exsphere in Tethe'alla, never mind multiple Exspheres, was ridiculously difficult. The world was prospering despite the monsters roaming the land—as the long as the Tower of Salvation could be seen, the world still flourished. Since it was prospering, there were no Desians from which to simply steal the Exspheres.

There was the matter of the Exsphere broker Vharley, but Emil, Richter, and Aster had so far traveled almost a quarter of Tethe'alla and the broker was nowhere to be found. There was also the idea of stealing some Exspheres from machines, such as the Grand Tethe'allan Bridge, as Tethe'allans attached the stones to machinery rather than people. But it was far too dangerous to backpedal such a distance over mostly open land, with who knew how many organizations on their heels.

Besides, Aster and Richter had seen firsthand that when Exspheres are attached to machines, sometimes abnormalities occurred, which made the Exsphere useless. Such Exspheres were usually thrown away. Attaching a deformed Exsphere to a person was dangerous even if he or she had a key crest.

Unless they happened upon Vharley in the deep woods of Ozette and beyond—which was more than doubtful—their best bet for Exspheres was the dwarf Altessa. It was also an opportunity to see if the key crests they purchased in Sybak's bazaar were safe and effective for use, and if not, there was a dwarf right there to forge new crests for them anew.

So Emil hoped, anyway.

They hadn't stayed long in Ozette, mostly out of respect for its vehement contempt for half-elves. Richter's pointed ears were hidden by his mane of crimson hair, and Solum's core by Aster's bangs, but there was no telling what would happen if they were discovered to be a half-elf and a human who could use magic. Emil himself was a different story altogether, a being who appeared human but could use the energy of magic and life however he saw fit. Should the people of Ozette discover the nature of their visitors … nothing good would come of it.

While they were near the outskirts of the village, Emil made sure that their monsters were kept out of sight, lurking in the shadows of the forest canopy. However, once they put enough distance between their party and the hostile village, the Knight of Ratatosk deemed it safe for the monsters to walk in the open. He could feel Titan's irritation at being almost continuously ordered to lie low and hide. Evolution changed not only a monster's physical self, their personalities were affected, too. Before, Titan was a starving, half-mad creature that sought shelter under someone's wing, whether that wing be other wolves in a maurading pack or a Knight of Ratatosk.

Now, Titan was no longer starving and half-mad. He grew bigger and stronger, he knew this. He had the power to protect himself and his master. Why should he have to hunker down and hide when he was perfectly capable of stopping a brigade of enemy knights with his own fangs and claws?

Ever since Titan's evolution, Emil wondered if he could control the wolf. Pact magic or not, the monsters he bonded with had free will, an aspect he tried to respect the whole time he'd bent monsters to his will.

_Why are you worrying so much? If you're worried about Titan, just keep him reined in. That's what the pact magic is for, it establishes your obvious superority above the monster so it will obey your every command._

_But monsters aren't just mindless things to be culled or beaten for thinking for themselves! They have free will, too. I want to respect that._

_If you let your monsters do whatever they want at any time, they won't accept you being superior, they won't accept you as their master, and so won't obey you. This is how Titan lived in that pack of wolves, they banded together under an alpha that established he was the boss._

_So did Sial, but he was a completely different wolf than Titan! _

_Well, if it makes you feel any better, it's not like Titan's doing anything dangerous now. I just hope you don't wait until he has Aster or Richter under his jaws before you take any action._

Emil heaved an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Beside him walked Titan, the giant wolf's body half hidden in the shadows of the forest canopy, glimmering yellow eyes and ice blue mane visible in the morning sunlight's dappled curtain. He was certainly in a much better mood now that he wasn't made to stay separate from the others. His new pack, his new alpha.

"Great." Emil muttered under his breath. "Of all the wolves he had to choose, he got me a power hungry, bloodthirsty one."

Behind him, Richter quirked a brow, interest piqued. It was well known that half-elves had better hearing than humans, but perhaps that fact slipped Emil's mind. It made sense, considering everything else going on at the moment. The half-elf wondered, who was this "he"? Maybe it was Aster, since he was with Emil when the Knight had made the pact with Titan. Still, something bugged Richter about the way Emil spoke.

Their little falling-out of the previous night fresh in his mind, Richter decided to leave it be.

"Hey, guys, look at this!" Aster's voice halted the march, and drew eyes to where he stood beside his lady spider, Quartz.

Immediately Richter and Emil wished they hadn't looked. Aster held out his arms, holding in his hands a giant blanket of spider's silk, fashioned into a web. Richter and especially Emil recalled just what it was spiders did with their webs, and for giant monster spiders like Quartz … The arachnid looked perfectly innocent, all eight eyes staring unabashedly. Aster held the web like it was a blanket hand knit by his beloved grandmother rather than a monster's vampiric death trap.

Bright emerald eyes shone almost obscenely. "Isn't it cool!" Aster demanded, plucking at the strings of the web. Unlike a normal, tiny spider's web, the strands remained intact. They thrummed like the strings of a musical instrument. For a large spider, its web had to be strong to support its weight.

Richter dared to speak.

"Aster, just … what are you doing with that web?"

The blond teenager merely shrugged. "Quartz built it to catch food, but in the morning I told her we had to move on, and she spent hours building that web. So I decided to take it with us. She can catch her food whenever we set up camp, and when she's done with it, we can use it for all sorts of stuff, like carrying extra things, or even a hammock or—"

"The Pope will rip out my fresh, bleeding heart before I'm going to sleep on a spider's dinner table."

At that, Aster donned a frown that would quickly turn into a pout. "Oh, come on! You can't expect Quartz to be able to hunt for her food, her prey would see her coming a mile away. And if she kept building webs every time we stopped somewhere, the Papal Knights would notice and might associate it with us."

Richter scoffed, cynical as always. "Like the Knights would know to associate giant spider webs with a band of renegade Sybakers. They don't know we have monsters, and those who did, they're not around to tell the tale."

"That web …" Emil began hesitantly, staring at the thick silken threads in Aster's hands. "Isn't it … y'know, sticky?"

Aster looked down at the web he held. "As a matter of fact …" Without hesitation he took up one hand and whacked it squarely on Richter's face.

There was a deathly silence.

_Now this _really _makes me wish I hadn't killed him. _Ratatosk's voiced was brimming with an almost morbid sense of mirth at the sight.

_Don't joke about that! But … Richter does look … kinda pissed._

… _Kinda?_

"Yep, it's sticky." Aster announced with evident satsifaction, thin tendrils of silk hanging onto Richter's hair, glasses, and skin. "With silk this thick, I'm sure it could be used as more than just webbing … maybe a new kind of rope? Ranchers would be thrilled." Beside him, Richter hadn't moved one inch, frozen completely. "Builders, too, and circus performers could use this as a more reliable safety net—"

Emil's voice was unusually timid, even for his first few months masquerading as a human. "Uhm … Richter? A-are you all right?" He wished the taller man would move, even once. The way he stood, as if petrified, was nerve-fraying. Even Titan picked up the tension, his long pointed ears wound backward, flat against his head.

Richter spoke.

"_Spread!"_

A conjured geyser shot upward from beneath Aster's feet. Too late the blond scientist noticed, and received the blast of pressurized water full to the face. The force of the spell lifted him bodily from the ground, sending him rolling across the forest floor. Immediately Quartz came to her master's defense, her eight legged frame shielding Aster's body below her. She clicked her mandibles menacingly, almost hissing.

"Richter! What're you doing!" Emil demanded, bewildered. "Why're you—" He blinked, surprised. He heard Aster laughing. Laughing. As if his best friend pelting him in the face with a water spell was the norm, to be expected, and moreover, his idea of _fun._

"It's all right, it's okay." Aster was still laughing, gently pushing Quartz off him. The lady spider obeyed him at once, even to her it was clear he was in no real danger. If that had been Titan, Emil wasn't sure the wolf would have stood aside so quietly or readily.

"How is shooting off magic at you—" Richter cut off Emil's half sentence.

"He challenged me to a duel." The red-haired swordsman stated flatly. "He slapped me with his right hand, that means he wants a duel."

Emil blinked. "You're not serious!"

"Actually, it was supposed to be with a glove, but I guess that works, too." Aster stood, and to Emil's horror, equipped the spinner. With a flick of his thumb he unlocked the blades, the sharpened curves of smooth metal rotating as he moved. "He always said he'd wanted to spar with me, but we couldn't because I couldn't fight, and it'd be hard without starting a riot in the Academy."

"Plus you got … monster web on my face."

Aster nodded, humoring his friend. "Plus I got monster web on your face."

"We don't have all day, the Papal Knights are still chasing us!"

"This won't take all day." Aster replied with a casual wave of his hand.

Despite his less than stellar performances with the Papal Knights recently, Aster was holding up well against Richter. The spinner looked too small to be any real protection, nothing like a sword or an axe, but it was a different kind of weapon, and as Aster was the perfect example, looks were deceiving. He was quick on his feet, blocking blows and escaping deadlocks, sidestepping when he needed to. Magic made it more complicated.

Richter obviously was an experienced magic user, flinging Aqua Edges and Spreads whenever he had the space and time for a quick chant, and though Aster managed to dodge nearly all the water spells, they kept him at a distance, away from Richter. The only way to break through to him was to cast some of his own magic, earth magic, Solum's magic.

As a human, Aster was clumsy handling magic, he was still new to the power of mana and attuning himself to an element to cast a spell. However, he was obviously catching on the game. Though Richter had seen him cast Grave before, this time it caught him off guard. He stumbled, allowing his opponent to cut the distance between them and continue the steel to steel fight.

Aster's style was distinct, unique, an identity all its own, reinforced by the type ofmagic he used. But seeing Aster fight with the spinner reminded Emil painfully of its original owner. Of Marta. He thought he'd left his feelings for Marta, for the world before, the world to chose to live in, the world he chose to sacrifice himself to protect, behind him. This way, they could rectify their mistakes and build a much better future for their world, even if it had been stolen from them before.

Almost against Emil's will, those feelings kept welling up, bigger and bigger, until he thought he was going to burst. Bitterly, Emil laughed.

_Hahah, Colette was wrong. She said I was selfless … But I'm probably the most selfish jerk the world has seen._

To that, Ratatosk had no reply. And that unnerved Emil.

"Yes! I won!"

Emil blinked, Aster's cry of victory tearing him back to the world. Indeed, Aster had won the little sparring match—lying in the dirt was Richter's axe, and Aster himself had the sword, leaning casually on it as he held his spinner to Richter's throat.

"Whoa, you actually beat Richter? I'm impressed!" Emil's jaw dropped, and he even started a small applause. Aster had been fighting for less than two months, while Richter had the upper hand in the experience department.

Annoyed, Richter pushed Aster's spinner away, leaning over to pick up his fallen axe. "To be fair," he said sourly, "he does have a Centurion's core on him. I don't even have an Exsphere."

"To be fairer," Aster countered with a small frown, "it wasn't easy, even with Solum's power." Aster did have his share of cuts and bruises, not to mention a sopping wet coat from the earlier water spells. He heaved his breath, obviously worn but not completely exhausted. Richter murmured a Heal over his injuries, perhaps as an apology. The half-elf also sported signs of being beaten on, but he had more earth and stone clinging to his clothes than cuts and bruises on his skin.

Richter sheathed his sword and axe, brushing crumbling earth off him. He probably needed to launder his clothes to get them properly clean again. "Well, I guess this means we don't have to worry about you as much if we run into the Papal Knights again."

"Heh, as much?"

"Remember the halberd, Aster? Remember how badly that went?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have my spinner on me!"

Richter opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, Emil intervened.

"Okay, kids, we get it. Let's get moving, it's almost noon. Altessa's house should be just around the bend."

To illustrate the finality on this statement, Emil began to determinedly march forward again, Titan lumbering beside him. Leste was probably fluttering in the tree canopy above, and Ripplescale floated liesurely near Titan. Arbor, the little filofilia, was getting tired, its leaf ears drooping tellingly. Cooing softly at the small plant creature, Aster scooped it up in his arms.

Richter stood, looking on at the procession. Quartz walked, eight legs padding quietly on the grass. She stopped for a moment, turning her body to gaze at him. Spiders probably didn't have eyelids to blink with, but Richter found it unnerving, the way those eight eyes stared into his, unflinching, unblinking. Then, with a shrug that could've been a sigh, the lady arachnid followed her master.

The half-elf heaved a sigh. "… I'm not a kid."

Altessa's house was in fact built into the side of a mountain. It wasn't so much of a house as rooms carved into the rock, with spaces for a round window and the usual rectangle door. A flattened path of dirt led up to the door, before which was a small rug. A number of potted houseplants rested in the sunny side of the patio, drinking in the golden daylight, their leaves bright in green glory.

"Haha, Arbor's happy." Aster smiled as they approached the dwarven dwelling. His filofila leapt out of his arms, dashing up to the potted houseplants, staring at them with wide eyes. "Hmm … I don't think he's seen potted plants before. Just wild ones." Fascinated, Aster continued to watch Arbor, pulling a small notepad out of his coat pocket to jot down his thoughts on the matter.

Richter approached the door, but stopped short at Aster's voice. "Richter, you might want to let Emil get the door." It went unsaid, but the half-elf heard it loud and clear: he wasn't exactly known for his people skills, as the other day he had demonstrated. He shrugged, standing away from the door.

"Fine. I've heard Altessa isn't very friendly, anyway."

"Living by Ozette, their hostility might be contagious." Emil tried to joke, but Richter only stared flatly at him, clearly unamused. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine, fine, I'm getting the door." He grasped the brass knocker nailed to the front, banging the knob on the solid oak wood three times. Silently, he wondered what dwarves looked like. He'd only seen one dwarf, Lloyd's foster father, Dirk. Dirk was unusual for a dwarf, electing to live on the surface, in a wooden house instead of somewhere underground no less.

On that note, he wondered what dwarven women looked like. For a woman answered the door. She wasn't short of stature, like a male dwarf, and though she had hair, it was a beautiful cascade of mint green, bound into a thick braid that ended at the small of her back. She wore a dress of many verdant shades, the lights and darks reminding Emil of the woods they just passed through. Dark jade eyes greeted him under thick black lashes.

Emil's mouth felt dry, like sandpaper. "Uh … hi. Is Altessa home? We'd like to see him."

When the woman spoke, she caught Emil completely off guard.

"WELCOME. YOU WISH TO SEE MASTER ALTESSA. PLEASE, COME INSIDE."

There was a silent pause after the woman vanished into the house. Richter broke it, taking the words right out of Emil's mouth.

"… Well, that was weird."

Aster put his notebook away, leaving Arbor among Altessa's houseplants. "Don't just stand there, it's bad manners! The monsters will have to stay outside. We don't want to upset Altessa when we need his help." He turned, gesturing to Quartz to remain outdoors. The lady arachnid didn't seem to protest, lurking away to the side of the house. Perhaps she was going to set up her new portable web.

Leste and Ripplescale understood, immediately going off to each her own. No doubt the harpy wanted a nice tree to perch in, and the water drake most likely was headed to the lake ahead of the dwarven dwelling. Titan, however, was reluctant to allow his master to enter the place with no monster protection.

"Titan, you have to stay outside. Watch Arbor." Emil clearly instructed as Richter and Aster followed the woman into the house. The Fenrir growled, clearly not liking the idea one bit. Emil put his hands over Titan's wrinkled muzzle, pushing the wolf's head downward.

Emerald eyes met golden, and in a firm voice, Emil said, "Stay." Titan snorted, but he planted himself on the dirt porch by the houseplants, sliding his forepaws to lie down. He rested his chin on his paws, but his eyes were open, and his long, pointed ears were alert, swerving to detect danger.

Satsified that Titan would stay put, at least for now, Emil turned on his heel and entered the house.

It was significantly cooler on the inside than outside, and there was more room than Emil would have expected. Dwarves were a small people, but that didn't necessarily mean they liked to live in small places. There was a table just inside the door. It was large for one or two people. Did Altessa have guests often? Behind the table was a fireplace, and a stove, perhaps were meals were cooked. The woman already had something cooking, and it smelled wonderful.

"PLEASE, WAIT HERE. I WILL GO GET THE MASTER."

Like he had at Zelos's house, Aster pulled up chair, planting himself on it as if it were his own house. Richter followed suit, making sure to stay away from the table so the dirt that clung to his clothes wouldn't get on the table. Emil didn't feel comfortable sitting down, he didn't know what kind of person Altessa was.

He didn't have to wonder long. In moments the tall woman returned, with who was unmistakably the dwarf Altessa in tow. Altessa was a small man, about Dirk's size. The crown of his head was bald but he had silvering hair on its sides, thick bushy eyebrows and an amazing curtain of beard. Like any well-to-do Tethe'allan during its flourish, he dressed well in a robe of dark green silk, though his large, roughened hands betrayed the crafting work he did.

"Who are you people?" Altessa demanded in a rough, gravelly voice. "Not many people from Ozette would come through the woods just to see a lone man."

"We're not from Ozette." Richter supplied, drawing Altessa's attention. "We need your help."

The craftsman grunted. "It must be a very specific kind of help. What do you need?"

"Two things." Aster said, reaching for the small bag that contained the key crests they obtained in Sybak. "We'd like you to see if these key crests are safe to use, and we want to know if you happen to have any Exspheres on you."

Altessa took the bag of key crests, but he was instantly suspicious at Aster's mention of Exspheres.

"What do you want Exspheres for? I don't have thousands to give away for a new machine. I'm a craftsman, not an Exsphere manufacturer."

"No need to be so hostile," Richter muttered. Aster threw him a glare for his trouble before he answered the question.

"We just need three. We figure traveling with monsters in the world would be dangerous without any Exspheres."

Altessa laughed gruffly, as if he were amused. "You must be the smartest travelers I've met. Most stopped traveling when the monsters appeared. Either they go by ship, a carriage guarded by Royal Knights, or they don't go at all. As for these key crests …" He dumped him in one hand, holding them up to the light, studying them. "They would be safe to use."

Emil quirked a brow, not understanding. "Would be? What does that mean?"

"These key crests are copies. Replicas. They're not made of inhibitor ore."

Richter scoffed, snapping his fingers. "Damn swindling bazaar merchant—"

"Where would we get inhibtor ore?" Emil asked, cutting off the half-elf before he could stir up a cursing storm.

_These Exspheres are so much trouble. Why can't we just go ahead and awaken the Centurions? Give one to Richter and it's better than an Exsphere._

_We got kicked around by Lloyd before, remember? Our power is still weak, we probably need all the Centurions before we could trounce anyone. Besides, Cruxis and the Desians all use Exspheres. It's insurance against the worst._

_Ugh, I know what you mean, but this is _such_ a pain!_

"The Toize Valley Mine on the southern continent, in the same range as Latheon Gorge. It's an Exsphere mine as well, so you might find your Exspheres along with inhibitor ore in one fell swoop." Altessa explained, marking the location of the mine on a map of Tethe'alla. Emil found himself smiling wryly at the thought of the mine.

_Toize Valley Mine? Wasn't that the mine where Alice was trying to find more Exspheres for her monster controlling machines?_

_The very same. But, there's a problem …_

Emil blinked, looking at the map, at the inked circle meant to point out the location of the mine. It was on an entirely different continent, separated from them by the ocean's great azure maw. He groaned, slamming his palm on his forehead.

"Well, that's just great. We don't have any way to get across the ocean."

"How about we put the Exspheres on hold then?" Richter suggested. "Just go to another Temple and awaken a Centurion?"

"Richter, that'd be fine, except any other temple is also across the ocean." Aster answered, confirming Emil's fears.

"Great. Fantastic." Emil repeated, slumping in his chair, defeated. He very much doubted that Ripplescale could drag them across the ocean this time; the gap between the contients was much greater than the span of the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge. Leste could fly, but she was such a tiny thing, no bigger than a human woman. There was no way she could fly them across.

Altessa observed curiously, his head tilted to one side. "What's the matter, lads? Can't book a ship to get to where you need to go?"

"Unfortunately." Richter said. "The Papal Knights don't take kindly to us at the moment."

"Hmm." The dwarf stroked his thick beard, as if he were considering something.

Emil on the other hand didn't know what to do. On his first journey, everything was just as straightforward, but they had modes of transportation, they didn't have an angry band of knights attempting to block them every single step of the way, or at least not as vehemently as the Papal Knights. They were able to book ships to cross the ocean, and awakening the Centurions was even more straightforward. All they had to do was follow Lloyd's trail, because he had been after them, too.

This time, they had no access to ferries across the sea, Lloyd was not after the Centurions, and on top of that, Lloyd's friends weren't here to help them. With the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge out, they couldn't even go back to Meltokio. They were essentially landlocked on this continent. Without a way to cross the water, their journey was on a standstill.

They were stuck.

Altessa's gruff voice drew Emil's attention. "Well, if you have nowhere else to stay for the night, you can stay here. Tabatha makes a delicious curry; in fact, it's what she's preparing now."

"We wouldn't want to impose," Richter began, holding up a hand. "We could backtrack to Ozette, that's where we stayed last night."

Altessa shook his head. "You think a half-elf could get away with staying in Ozette a second time?"

The red-haired man blinked, surprised. "How did you—"

"Don't make me laugh. I heard some scientists from Sybak were on the run, one of which was a half-elf, and they were associated with Tethe'alla's traitor Chosen no less. If you're having trouble with the Papal Knights, you must be those scientists."

Aster clapped his hands together, smiling for all he was worth. "Well, if you don't mind. I'm pretty hungry myself, actually."

Richter frowned. "That curry does smell good."

Emil's chin was inclined downward. It was as if there were no improvement in his demeanor since last night, except this time he wasn't angry. "All right. Might as well, seeing how we're stuck at this point."

"Stuck? What, being landlocked? It's not that bad—" Aster's next words were drowned out by his twin's sharp retort.

"Yes, it's that bad! We can't get any Exspheres, we can't get to any Centurions, and we're being hunted all across Tethe'alla!" Emil kneaded his temples, heaving a sigh. "I—I thought I could do some good on this journey, but if I can't even get to where I need to go …"

Aster scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Oh, stop it, Emil! I have a plan."

Richter stifled a laugh. "Are you sure it won't end up in Emil having another broken wrist?"

The blond scientist made a noise as if he were hurt. "That was an accident! Anyway, I was going to say, all we have to do is go to Mizuho."

There was a pause. "Mizuho?" Emil asked. "The hidden village, kept secret from outsiders?"

Aster nodded. "Yeah. They ought to be able to help us get across the sea."

"It's not a bad idea." Richter replied, shrugging. "But it does have a flaw—how do you find a hidden village?"

The question stretched across the air, even when the green-haired woman—whom Altessa identified as Tabatha—began to set out plates of curry on the table. Emil had been to Mizuho before, Sheena's hometown. But the lay of the land was different in this era of two split worlds. She might have even moved the village from its previous location for all he knew.

Aster didn't answer right away. He preferred to eat first, as the way he ate with gusto indicated. Richter took his plate away from the table; his clothes were still riddled with dirt and earth from his earlier sparring match with Aster, and he didn't want to get it on the table where the rest of the food was. Aster swallowed a mouthful of rice and sauce, holding his fork between two fingers.

"I know that it's in the forest by Ozette. The Elemental Research Lab is part of Sybak, and since it's working with Mizuho, there were secret operations bent on finding the village. The King of Tethe'alla didn't like that he never knew exactly where they were. In the nearby woods was as close as we could pin it without alerting Mizuho."

"I bet Solum can find it," Emil whispered so that only he, Aster, and Richter could hear. Solum was the Centurion of Earth, after all, he had to know better than anyone who built what on the land that was his element, his home.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, as Tabatha didn't stay to eat, and Altessa had retreated to his craftsman's work.

Richter needed to wash his clothes. They were riddled with dirt and earth, courtesy of Aster's newfound potential in earth magic. It was almost evening, and he figured he could go out front and wash his garments before retiring to bed. For all that he heard Altessa was unfriendly, he wasn't that unfriendly. He wasn't turning them over to the Papal Knights, he gave them dinner, and even a place to stay for the night.

The half-elf had a change of clothes, even when they started their journey so unprepared, but he hated for his clothes to remain dirty longer than they had to. Tabatha directed him to the soaps and washtubs she used to do laundry, and though she offered to do his for him, Richter insisted on doing his own laundry himself.

By now Richter knew strange things happened whenever he stepped outside. The first thing he saw was Aster's filofilia monster, Arbor—except it wasn't a filofilia anymore. It was larger than it was before, and instead of a soft green body, it was gnarled, brown bark. The leaves that sprouted from its head were replaced with branches full of greenery, and tangled roots made up its feet. Arbor had evolved into a Treant.

"Well, now."

Titan, the large Fenrir, watched from his vigil at the end of the porch. Arbor growing from a tiny budding plant to a large tree type creature didn't seem to bother him in the least. Aster would probably be thrilled, his first monster had its first evolution. But the matter on hand was Richter's laundry and its regrettable state of filth. He walked over to the washtub Tabatha had pointed out for him and began filling it with water.

By now Richter also knew that wherever he was, his little blond shadow was never far behind him. He began a mental countdown. Five … four … three … two … But instead of the usual singsong voice promising a wealth of chaos, there was a brief shout.

"Spontaneous pouncing!"

_Splash. Thunk. Thud. _

The water was cold, there were soap suds in his face, and his long mane of crimson hair was sopping wet. There was also a weight on his back, and a pair of arms slung around his neck in a vice grip. Really, there was only one person who would do something like this … and get away with it.

Richter sighed, slicking back his soaked bangs out of his eyes. "Hello, Aster. What was that you said in Sybak? That you wouldn't spontaneously pounce me?"

With a laugh, Aster untangled himself from Richter, and unabashedly pecked the half-elf on the cheek.

"Hehe, sooooorryyyyy. But I couldn't resist! You left yourself wide open for that one!"

Richter ignored the little kiss, wringing the wash water out of his hair. When he said Aster had a few screws loose, he meant a few screws loose. Maybe more than a few. Anyway, it was so like Aster it didn't even faze him. On the bright side, he didn't have dirty clothes this time. "Right. By the way, your little plant beast evolved."

"Oooh, Arbor! Looking good!" Aster dashed over to the newly grown Treant, admiring the hard bark and bright, mature leaves. "I wonder what made him evolve. Prolly from sitting out here and photosynthesizing for so long. He's by the houseplants, so maybe he got some pollen, too."

"Probably." Richter replied, scrubbing his jacket on the washboard, up to his elbows in soap bubbles. "Hey, Aster. Which Centurion do you think we'll awaken next?"

"I don't know. It's up to Emil, but the closest one to where we are is the Temple of Lightning. Tonitrus, if all the Centurions are named after old elf words for the elements."

"Hn." Richter continued to wash his clothes, stopping occasionally to hang up the newly cleaned garments on the clothesline. "I hope the people of Mizuho decide to help us. They could just as easily turn us in." He paused, looking over his shoulder. Aster stood behind him, threading his fingers through the long crimson hair. "What are you—"

"Hang on, I bet it's a pain to do chores when your hair gets in your way."

Richter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How would you know, you don't have long hair." Nonetheless he didn't resist when Aster began binding his hair into a thick braid. He had a hair tie and everything. "And since when did you know how to braid?"

"When a girl is in your research team, you learn a few interesting things."

" Oh, really."

Aster finished the braid, tying it at the end with a black band. "Yeah, really. And you should learn how to do it, so it won't be in your way all the time."

"It was fine. Nothing is wrong with the way I wear my hair."

Aster smirked, smacking Richter's shoulder playfully. "Next thing you know, I'll be straightening your tie."

"Aster." There was a stern note of warning in Richter's tone.

The blond couldn't help but grin toothily. "I know, I know, my days are numbered." He gave a cheery little wave as he padded back into Altessa's house.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, throwing a reddish gold light, a bright flare in the western skies. In the east, it was already dark, the hemisphere thrown in twilit violets and blues, white stars blinking. Long shadows stretched across the ground, as if to measure Richter's doubts and fears. He sighed, hanging up the rest of the wash before he, too, would retire for the night.

"I don't know whether he's just acting that way or if he's really like that." He murmured, not talking to anyone in particular. Arbor was settled between two potted plants, the little face on the brown bark drooping as if to sleep. Across the patio sat Titan, silent and vigilant. "But I don't blame him. We don't really know how long this journey will last, or if we'll come out of it alive. We could always use a last laugh."

He shivered, a chill running down his spine, as if something were creeping up on him. He turned around, but there was nothing, only his shadow that stretched across the earth, and continued to do so as the sun dipped deeper under the land's edge. The hair by his ears tickled, like something whispered to him.

But he heard actual words.

Puzzled, Richter squinted, scanning the patio, looking for the source of the voice. The only ones with him were the monsters, and he was pretty sure monsters couldn't talk. He tried to shrug it off, but it was a difficult thing to do, more than he thought it would be.

"… Betrayer? What the hell?"

A/N: Richter has a very interesting plot point beyond being a love interest lol. Was actually inspired when I was playing my warlock in WoW. Shan't spoil unless requested to do so. Since they're heading for Mizuho next, there's also ample opportunity for a Kuchinawa moment o.o

And of course some Aster/Richter love for all of you. They shall bring Emil into their fold soon enough mwuahahahahaha.


	20. The Mystical Village, Mizuho

A/N: Been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for the long hiatus, but lack of the games has been hitting me hard in the inspiration and what happened when departments.

Part XX: In Which I Am Running Out of Roman Numerals

Just as Aster never ceased to amaze those around him, it turned out that Altessa could in fact be an unfriendly dwarf. Hours before first light of day, the craftsman abruptly and rudely woke his three guests, his gruff voice urging them to leave without delay. The three of them hadn't expected to stay long, of course, so it wasn't much to get their meager things together and vacate the house, but it had left them rather unnerved.

Rather, it unnerved Emil and Aster, both of whom hadn't expected this from Altessa, right after the dwarf offered them food and shelter. Richter hadn't been surprised in the least, he had expected something like this since they passed through Ozette. As Emil had joked the previous day, the village's hostility must have been contagious.

"Why would he just suddenly boot us out, though?" Aster asked as they headed back into the woods from whence they came. Centurion Solum had appeared beside his Knight, using his core—which glowed from his Knight's forehead—to sense the location of the Mystical Village, Mizuho. The southwestern woods of Gaoracchia was a close guess, as the scientists of Sybak had originally anticipated.

Richter grumbled, irritated at his rude awakening. He was doubly annoyed that Aster had braided his hair yesterday. Truly, he didn't mind the braid itself, but his little blond shadow had braided it when it was soaked through thanks to said shadow spontaneously pouncing him—after he had explicitly said he wouldn't—into the washtub. Now that Richter's hair was dry, it was in fact, wavy. Wavy. He was now crowned with a curtain of rippling crimson waves that was sure to catch the sunlight when it decided to rise a few hours from now. For now, there were only the grey mists of early morning and the chill that accompanied it, and that at least did something to alleviate his mood, if only a little.

"Why are you so surprised at that?" Richter replied to Aster, walking along the lake's edge. A body of water separated Ozette and Altessa's house from the rest of the Gaoracchia Woods. Going strictly by the water, they would bypass the hostile village and come to the bridge on the Sybak side of the forest. From there it was up to Solum to guide them the rest of the way. "He's always had a less than stellar reputation, just ask Kate. She's worked with Altessa before."

Aster shook his head, his brow knit with what Richter recognized as genuine concern. "But he didn't have a problem with us running from Sybak, or being in trouble with the Papal Knights or being associated with Tethe'alla's traitor Chosen. He wasn't even put off that you were a half-elf. Right after he guessed that, he offered us dinner and shelter under his roof! Why, after all that, would he suddenly kick us out?"

That made Richter stop and think. Aster, of course, was absolutely right. The dwarf hadn't thought much of their current status as fugitives on the run from the law. What, then, had made Altessa so vehement to remove them from his home? It seemed unnecessary and random, it didn't fit. After a long silence, he confessed, "I don't know."

It was Emil who hit the nail on the head, something that surprised both scientists, since it was usually they and not he who volunteered—and were mostly likely correct with—such information. He didn't sound sure of himself, though, as if he wanted to be wrong on this account.

"Could he … be afraid of Cruxis?"

Richter raised an eyebrow. "Cruxis? How would Altessa—"

"We talked about the Centurions in front of him." Aster cut off Richter midsentence. "I didn't think they would mean much to a dwarf, they don't seem to concern themselves with magical things like humans, elves, and half-elves do. If he knew about Ratatosk and his Centurions, and that Cruxis had kept them sealed, putting distance between himself and Ratatosk's Knights seems like the best thing for him to do."

Emil nodded. "My thoughts exactly. He thought that if we stayed too long with him, Cruxis would come and find us, and he would be in danger."

"But," Richter threw the word in edgewise, like a wrench into the mechanism of an expensive and complex machine. "That raises an important question—is Altessa affiliated with Cruxis?"

For that, neither Aster nor Emil had an answer. Their identical sets of emerald eyes dropped to their feet, their frowns betraying their feelings on the thought that Altessa could be in league with their enemies. Emil's reaction Richter learned to expect, but Aster's countenance going the same way as Emil's threw him off. He knew Aster had to be genuinely concerned about everything going on, but to so quickly show that … it was unnerving.

"I won't lie," Aster said quietly, that small frown still etched on his face. "That worries me. We may have made contact with someone directly in Cruxis. If that's so, they'll know exactly where we are, and pursuit can't be far behind."

"We don't know that for sure!" Emil protested. Pessimistic before, it was now he who dared to cling to the fraying threads of hope, even as they were gnawed to shreds. He sighed, kneading his temple as if he had a headache. "Let's just stay the course for now. How far to Mizuho, Solum?"

"Just across that bridge," The Centurion answered, still glowing an earthen gold in unison with his core embedded in Aster's forehead. "And further southwest. It was easier to find than I expected, for the secret human village."

"Not so far, huh?" Emil turned, staring directly at Titan. The wolf's pointed ears were flat against the back of his head, golden eyes narrowed, and his muzzle wrinkled with obvious distaste. Being the monster bonded to Emil the longest, he likely had a gist of what his master had in mind for him.

_You should allow Titan some freedom._

_What do you mean? We can't just waltz into Mizuho—_

_No, not like that. Just let him hunt or something in the forest while we're in the village. We can call to him at any time. _

_I'm not sure about that. Fenrir are hardly native to Gaoracchia. Someone would be bound to notice._

At that, Ratatosk heaved an audible sigh.

_How many people do you think actually travel through Gaoracchia? It's a terrible travel route, the only city on this side of the woods is Ozette, and they're perfectly capable of going around the forest or just using sea transport._

_But I don't want Titan frolicking in the forest by himself._

_Hmph. Just make sure Leste and Ripplescale watch over him, then. Arbor and Quartz can help, too._

… _I still don't know about this, but all right._

"Titan." Emil gestured with a hand, motioning for the wolf to come over. The Fenrir did, bowing his head, but he swished his tail aggressively as he padded on the dewy grass. As Emil thought, Titan was less than pleased when his master's will was conveyed to him. However, he perked up substantially after Emil added that he could spend his free time in the woods, as long as he took Leste and Ripplescale with him.

_See? _Ratatosk said as Emil's monsters disappeared into the dark borders of Gaoracchia. _Titan's remarkably similar to any other dog: exercise him, give him some freedom, and he'll be loyal to your every command._

_Gimme a break, I'm new to this whole Lord of Beasts thing._

_Heheh._

"Is Mizuho in Gaoracchia, Solum?" Richter asked, tethering Emil back to the earth once more. "It doesn't seem like a particluarly pleasant place to live."

"No," The Centurion replied. Walking before, now the demi-spirit that kept the form of a child elf floated beside Aster, his silky cloak of golden brown hemmed in green leafy patterns billowing softly behind him. "It's located in a sparsely forested area, near Gaoracchia but separated by foothills."

"The people of Mizuho are human." Richter said abruptly, almost stopping his walk, but not quite. Their small group had passed the bridge already, leaving the vicinity of Ozette and entering Sybak territory once more. The dark shadow of Gaoracchia was near, but the wing of the woods Solum guided them toward had a significant amount of sunlight piercing the forest canopy.

"Why would humans need to hide from their own kind?" Richter's question echoed boundlessly, far off into the forest, whipping past even the tall mountainous peaks in the horizon. He never spoke louder than a normal tone of voice, but in that instant, it was deafening, like a mighty clash of thunder.

Emil didn't know what to say to that. Elves hid from humans, half-elves hid from humans and elves, while dwarves hid from everyone else. Why _would _humans need to hide from other humans? Aster, however, bright, brilliant Aster, slammed the nail on the head, with a tremendous dent in the wood.

"It's to protect their unique culture." He answered, rather nonchalantly. As if Richter weren't experiencing a severe shock—for a half-elf, one who was persecuted for being half human, it was impossibly hard to imagine that _purebloods_ would ever need to hide from their own kind. "When we were working on Corrine, Sheena told me so. She wouldn't give me any details, but she did say that while the people of Mizuho don't live quite so differently from other Tethe'allans—they cultivate fruit, vegetables, and livestock—they have gods that aren't the same as Cruxis's goddess."

"They don't believe in the Church of Martel?" Emil asked, brow quirked. Judging from the mortal Emil's memories he had inherited, and seeing Tethe'alla, the Church of Martel seemed to rule the entirety of both worlds, just like Raine said in Meltokio.

Aster's mouth flattened into a grim line. "That's not quite correct. They do believe in Martel, but they still have their own gods, as a result of their culture." He paused for a moment. Richter filled in the silence, with an understanding that tasted sour on his tongue.

"It was the Church of Martel that drove the people of Mizuho into hiding. They wouldn't renounce all their other gods and embrace Martel alone."

Aster nodded, opening his mouth to speak. Whatever words he wanted to say died unborn in his throat, as a different man's voice rang loud and clear across the sun dappled woodlands.

"I told the Chief and Vice-Chief that cooperating with Sybak would be an awful idea. First they put power into the wrongs hands, killing a quarter of our people. Now they're trying to invade the village!"

Aster, Emil, and Richter cast their eyes around the woods wildly, trying to find the speaker. They also knew splitting up in Mizuho territory was a bad idea, especially with their monsters in the dark Gaoracchia forest. Slowly, they turned outward, all three of them standing crouched, battle-ready, with their backs to one another. Solum's core was no longer glowing; he had long since vanished from sight.

"Who are you?" Richter called. "Show yourself!"

The man's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, while he himself remained unseen.

"The proper question here is: who are _you? _Why do you encroach in Mizuho territory, and more importantly—how did you know where to go? Did someone leak the location, perhaps? Gotten too friendly with you Sybakers?"

"No!" Aster gripped his spinner, his thumb brushing the blade lock, but not with enough force to unlock them. His spinner required close melee combat, and on top of not having much battle experience to begin with, he was about to face a fighter of Mizuho. In order to retain their autonomy, Mizuho not only hid from their persectors, but also trained elite fighters. Not even the Royal or Papal Knights could compare to a handful of their warriors.

"If no one leaked it, then how did you come here?" The man snorted, obviously amused. "One does not simply stroll in Gaoracchia and the woods around it."

"We don't want to fight! We need your help." Emil called. His hand hovered over his sword hilt, but like Aster, he hadn't drawn his weapon yet. Only Richter stood with bared arms, and that was more of a precaution than anything else, if the Mizuho warrior decided to attack first and left the two younger men unprepared.

"Help?" The man asked, his voice no longer quite booming, but every bit as intimidating as before. "What help would that be? Your city is indirectly responsible for slaughtering a great number of us. My _parents. _Our _people. _What's next? Ruining our crops, poisoning our wells, plaguing our livestock?"

… _He's annoying. _Inwardly, Emil could feel Ratatosk's malice growing. He had somewhat mellowed out after their first journey, so he was slower to catch fire, but when that smolder got going, the whole horizon caught alight in blazing gold and red. _I hate the type of people that do nothing but blame, blame, blame and don't do anything to make the situation better. All they care about is themselves and their petty little vengeances._

Petty little vengeances? For a small, tight-knit community like Mizuho, Emil supposed this matter of villagers being killed, this man's parents among them, would mean a great deal. He was also tempted to point out that this denizen of Mizuho had a bit in common with Ratatosk—the malevolent spirit had wanted to wipe out humanity and half-elvenkind, after all. However, he had always had the greater good of the world in mind, as the administer of the world's mana. If the aphids on a rosebush were too much of a burden on the plant, the gardener exterminated them.

"We mean you no harm." Emil tried again. He hated to have to fight a citizen of Mizuho, as it might somewhat diminish their desire to work with his group. But if a fight was unavoidable, he would try his damndest not to kill him. A Fenrir sitting on top of the attacker might do the trick. "We, that is, two of us, are Knights of Ratatosk, the spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree. We need your help."

The man appeared before them. All he showed of his face were his eyes, a golden amber brown. He wore a black mask over his face, and a loose, auburn red outfit over his the rest of his body, with dark gauntlets and greaves to match. Belted to his back was a thin, curved blade, the hilt of which was held in his hand. Cautiously, he said,

"Ratatosk? The spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree from fairy tales?"

"No fairy tale. The Giant Kharlan Tree indeed once existed. We stand here as proof." Aster answered, and he approached the Mizuho warrior. He swept back his bangs, where Solum's earthen jewel crested on his forehead like a strange adornment. Almost as soon as the words were gone from his mouth, the jewel glowed, and the Centurion became visible in his preferred form, that of a child elf. It was obvious from his nut brown skin and black ears that he was no true elf.

The man's eyes widened, and he took a step back at Solum's sudden appearance. The Centurion bowed his head curtly, and his childish demeanor aside from physical form seemed to vanish for a moment.

"I am Centurion Solum, one of the servants of Lord Ratatosk. His Knights coming here is no act of malice toward you or your village, as it was I who guided them here."

The Mizuho man tilted his head to one side, curious as he studied Solum. "We learned this much from the elves, but none of us actually thought … the Kharlan War was four thousand years ago." He looked again, peering hard at Emil and Aster. "Ratatosk's Knights? You are the ones chosen to fight on his behalf?"

"I know we don't look like much," Emil said quickly, "but Ratatosk is in a state of dormancy; we need to reawaken the Centurions to awaken him and restore his power."

"The Giant Kharlan Tree is dead, if legend is to be believed." The man said stubbornly. "What purpose does Ratatosk have if he does awake?"

"For one," Aster countered with an edge of annoyance in his voice, "he could end the cycle of prosperity and dearth between the two worlds. Second, he intends to fight the angels of Cruxis that imprisoned him and his Centurions, and forced your village into hiding."

The warrior of Mizuho paused, thinking about all that was said. For him, vengeance against enemies of Mizuho was a high priority, if not the top one. There was even a list for that, naming the enemies that brought grief and misfortune to the people of the village, his kinsmen. The enemy of the world ranked highly on that list, if not the very first. He looked quizzically at Aster.

"You are bound to the Centurion of Earth." He observed. Aster nodded. He looked to Emil, Aster's veritable twin. "What Centurion are you bound to, if you're also a Knight as well?"

"I'm bound to no Centurion." Emil answered. "I'm bound to Ratatosk himself." This was a quite effective half-truth. He was in fact bound to the long-dormant tree spirit, and it saved him the trouble of showing what Centurion he was supposed to have bonded with. So Centurions could deign to share their power with a chosen Knight, so could Lord Ratatosk himself.

There was another pause as the Mizuho warrior considered this new information. Its importance could never be underestimated, even by the lowliest Tethe'allan beggar who was completely uneducated and had only a flawed knowledge of the ancient world courtesy of childhood fairy tales. After what felt like hours, the man spoke.

"… I see. What is your name?" He gave a small, curt nod. "I am Kuchinawa."

It was early morning, the sun dappling through the leafy canopy above hardly bright, a feeble, pale ghost of what the color gold should be, but the unmistakable glint of sharpened metal flashed. Of no accord of Emil's, his feet spread shoulder width apart, he braced against a blow, a scaled gauntlet grasped in his hands. The eyes he looked into were Kuchinawa's. The point of the dagger was perhaps a hair's breadth from Emil's skin.

"Hello." Emil grunted, and he could feel himself losing control of his own body, he could feel the leafy emerald fading, darkening to blood red. "I'm Ratatosk." This he said in a low whisper, but Kuchinawa's eyes went wide. He tried to pull the knife away, to no avail in the iron grip his opponent held him in.

"You dare—" Ratatosk twisted the ninja's arm upward, forcing the dagger to drop to the ground with a small thump—"lay a hand—" he twisted the arm even further back. If it weren't for Kuchinawa's Mizuho-honed reflexes to move with his opponent's attacks, his arm would have been strained or even broken. "—on my Knight!" He ended with a swift kick that didn't quite connect as Kuchinawa jumped back, but it afforded him time to draw his sword.

Upon seeing Emil draw his weapon, Aster and Richter quickly replicated the gesture. If they were to scorn Mizuho in the act of defending themselves, it was regrettable, but at this point, with one of the village's own attacking them, they were damned if they did, damned if they didn't. Richter was more than ready to spill however much blood it took to keep himself, Aster, and their newfound friend, Emil, safe. Aster, however, was less than confident, even bolstered by Solum's power.

Just how powerful was an elite fighter of Mizuho?

"He can't possibly take on all three of us," He muttered, inching toward Emil, Richter right behind him. Especially since two of them were Knights of Ratatosk, complete with monsters (whom he called out to in his mind, though he couldn't really feel their presence anywhere), and a magic-toting half-elven swordsman to boot.

"For once, be careful, Aster." Richter murmured beside him, axe held in a position where he could easily defend as he began to tap into the mana all around him for a spell. Aster nodded, jogging ahead to fall into step beside Emil.

Mizuho warriors—ninjas, Aster remembered Sheena calling them—certainly had an unorthodox fighting style. They didn't need to be elves or half-elves to know the land, to vanish from plain sight, and perform feats of superhuman strength. This much Aster learned quickly as he belatedly parried a group of throwing stars that rained down on him from the shadows of the canopy above. One of them bounced off his spinner's blades, ripping a gash on his upper lip. The coppery taste of blood flooded into his mouth, but he couldn't pay attention much to it as Kuchinawa descended upon him, dagger at the ready.

_I didn't even see him move!_ Aster marveled, sparks flying as spinner clashed with dagger. Despite the ninja's thin build, he had remarkable strength, and agility besides. The scientist was losing ground fast, and he was brutally reminded over and over, with every parry with diminishing accuracy each time, that the only reason he could fight at all was due to Solum's power, and the combined strength of Emil and Richter.

"Aster!" Richter shouted, hastily executing a mere Aqua Edge in the face of his friend's plight. One disc of animated water met its mark, pushing Kuchinawa back, out of range of the others as they simply dashed out of existence. Lackluster as the spell was, it put Kuchinawa at the perfect distance for a well-timed Dual Death arte on Emil's part.

It continued this way for quite some time, what felt like years. Emil could barely keep up with Kuchinawa's inhuman speed, and Richter had to shortchange his spellcasting in order to save Aster, who the Mizuho native had pinned as the weakest link of the group. Aster even started speedcasting the little earth spells he knew, made feeble and harmless by the short time he had to use them. It was all he could do to keep any distance between himself and Kuchinawa.

"Kuchinawa! _Stop!"_

Aster stumbled backward, and he allowed himself to fall, eyes wide, at the flash of metal. Sparks flew as blade clashed with blade; a second sword separated Kuchinawa's weapon from Aster's flesh by a few mere inches. The young man breathed heavily, heart hammering in his panic. He managed to tear his eyes away from the locked swords long enough to see who held the second one. It was a man, garbed like Kuchinawa, in dark blue instead of red.

"Orochi." Kuchinawa said flatly. His hand shook with the effort of struggling against Orochi's block.

"The Vice-Chief gave orders that no harm will come to them."

"Tch. I see." At a word from his brother, Kuchinawa ceased his attack, sheathing his blade. He cast a glance at the ragtag company of Knights that had journeyed from Altessa's, as if to remark on their good fortune that Orochi came when he did. He leapt into the trees, disappearing from sight.

Orochi put his katana away, turning to the newcomers.

"I apologize for that. My brother can be a little overzealous in the village's name at times."

Blood red eyes dimmed to leaf green. This was a new phenomena that Emil hadn't quite yet gotten used to—Ratatosk, bloodthirsty, indomitable Ratatosk, voluntarily handing over control of their shared body. He cleared his throat, sheathing his broadsword. Behind him, Richter and Aster also put their weapons away. If Orochi meant to attack them, he would have.

"It's all right, no one was seriously injured. Your Vice-Chief knew we were coming?"

"Mizuho's information network is nothing to sneeze at, if I may say so myself."

Richter put his word forth. "What happens now? Do we see your Vice-Chief? Does he put us as the village's friends, or foes?" They all dearly hoped it was the former, without Mizuho's aid, they had no hope of getting across the sea before the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge was lowered.

Orochi gestured to a path behind him, it must lead to the village.

"Friends, I should hope, if you are friends of Sheena Fujibayashi."

"We are. In fact, we met just a short while ago." Aster put forth. As one of the scientists at Sybak during the time of Corrine's making, he would have known her. Maybe not terribly well, but he could put the name to the face, which was more than most people could claim of those from Mizuho.

They followed Orochi to the village of Mizuho.

As it turned out, the Vice-Chief was a rather affable person, if not firm in his rule in the actual Chief's infirmity. And Mizuho could, in fact, help them get across the sea. Richter had to admit it was a very good plan, but ultimately one that had him questioning whether they were people, or packages.

The three of them sat before Tiga, seated a round table, where they had been served a traditional Mizuho dish, ramen noodles in a piping hot seasoned broth. The natives ate with a pair of sticks called chopsticks, but they had been provided forks and spoons if their fingers couldn't quite get the hang of the sticks.

Aster, however, wasn't bright and brilliant for nothing. He picked up the sticks and wielded them as if he had eaten using nothing else since he was old enough to walk and spout babbled sentences in lieu of actual words. He pinched a clump of noodles together, chowing down. Upon swallowing, he spoke.

"So, we're going to stow away on a merchant's ship departing from Ozette in a few days' time."

Tiga nodded. He didn't eat, but sipped from a cup of tea.

"There is a small pier on the nearby coast. We say it's going to and from Ozette, but for the bridge on the lake, they can't actually dock anywhere near it. The cargo is transported overland after that."

"And it doesn't leave until the day after tomorrow. Which leaves us free to … ?"

Tiga nodded to their company. "Rest, if you wish. If I may say so, you look like you could use it."

Indeed they could, Richter thought wryly. He thought he had plenty of stamina, but Emil and Aster looked especially worn. It wasn't as if Aster was used the rigors of travel, especially all this fighting they'd had to endure. Even strengthened by Solum's core, the scientist had his limits.

"That'd be marvelous, thanks."

Emil was grateful as he swallowed a mouthful of noodles and broth. An entire day of uninterrupted rest, free from worry of Papal Knights chasing after them. He had started to feel a little worthless, having only attained a single Centurion's core in all the time that had elasped. Granted, it would have been easier on his previous journey, the worlds had been one, and things had been quite different.

Though Ratatosk had confirmed it long before they actually began their journey, Emil had to ask again.

_Do you really mean to kill yourself here? I know you said that because of Origin, you could do that without wiping us out, too, but …_

_It doesn't really merit much thinking about. The Ratatosk in this era is of a mind to wipe out all humanity and half-elves when he awakes, if he has the power. Do you really want him to try? He won't be a pushover, even if we get all the Centurions bound to us instead of him._

_No, but if I'm you, then he' s me, too._

_I doubt we'll have to worry overmuch. If Richter was able to beat him, then we should be fine. Hopefully Lloyd and his friends will be able to overthrow Cruxis like they did before, and we'll be able to concentrate on him. And then …_

… _and then?_

_All will be well, I suppose._


	21. All Will Be Well

A/N: Even though I don't currently have either game in my possession at this time (friends are borrowing them), there are always videos and the synopses, which are marvelous if I'm forgetting details.

Part XXI: All Will Be Well

Emil had been soaking his feet in the river early morning the next day. It was quite chilly, but would warm up as the day advanced, and in his memory of Palmacosta, he had done this quite frequently, except in the fall and winter, when bitter cold beset the city. He had a frown, though those memories were tangible and as real to him as the feel of the wind and the sun on his skin, the earth underfoot, the feel of his own pulse, they were _fake._ They were memories forged of magic, of Ratatosk's power touching upon the minds of the human Emil's family when he took Aster's form.

The real Emil died. He had perished in Decus's Blood Purge of Palmacosta, using Solum's core to pin the blame on Lloyd, to discredit the Chosen and the Church of Martel. To give the Vanguard precedence, power. Vaguely he wondered. When they went to Sylvarant—as they would, four Centurions' cores rested there at various altars—would they meet the true Emil, as they might meet Marta and her family? Palmacosta was a large city, so chances were they might not even meet at all, but it was certainly a possibility that should be kept in mind.

A few splashes in the crystal clear water.

_Ugh, you're brooding over this again? Why not devote that thinking to more important subjects—such as the cores, or why Kuchinawa attacked us yesterday?_

Emil frowned grimly, splashing around once more. The movement was so familiar, so repetitive, so ingrained into him, like breathing or blinking. He just did it without thinking about it. He knew Palmacosta like the back of his hand—hell, he even remembered the time Lloyd had attacked the Desian Grand Cardinal Magnius in the town square!

_How would you feel if you knew that your life was a lie, just some fabrication to protect your true identity, which wasn't even known to you at the time?_

_I think you know the answer to that already._

And so he did: Ratatosk wouldn't care. He was made for and lived for greater things, like managing the distribution of elemental mana across the world. Ratatosk would just accept the facts as they are and plow forward from there. He would blaze, cut, a new trail for himself and his Centurions to follow. He would let no wall, no barrier, no person, and certainly not a figment of his spiritual mind stop him.

_I'm sorry that I still slip into these thoughts. But I can't ignore it so easily. It was such a shock; no wonder he didn't recognize me …_

Neighbors, hah. They had never been neighbors. Never seen one another, never met until that day in the Dynasty Ruins. Nevertheless, he heaved a sigh, attempting to humor his other half.

_Okay, then … so why do you think that Kuchinawa attacked us yesterday? Is it because we're related to the Summon Spirits somehow?_

_A summoner from this village failed to control Volt, and thus a great many people died. This much we learned yesterday. It's certainly possible, but we're so different from the Summon Spirits that somehow I don't think it's it._

_Hmm … why else? Even if he believed us, what does he have to gain by eliminating us, or taking us out of commission, or whatever?_

_The only immediate answer I can think of … he might be somehow connected to Cruxis. Cruxis first bound Ratatosk and his Centurions into dormancy. We are causing Cruxis trouble just by being awake, never mind going around and collecting the cores._

_Ugh, who isn't connected to Cruxis in this era?_

Ratatosk laughed then, though the matter at hand truly wasn't funny, and a grim truth rang in those words. They had no proof of Kuchinawa's possible affiliation with Cruxis, all they were going on were guesses. Their enemies were certainly clearly cut: wild monsters, the Papal Knights, the angels and Desians of Cruxis. And, of course, anyone else that attacked them or otherwise stood in the way of their objectives.

Emil stood then, putting his shoes back on after he shook his feet dry. He ventured back to the village to find Aster and Richter, to plan the next stages of their journey, specifically whether either scientist knew anything about the Temple of Darkness other than the neccessity of the blue candle, to light Shadow's darkness.

He found Aster back at the unoccupied house Vice-Chief Tiga had directed them to the day before, sleeping soundly. Richter was awake, looking over sheaves of paper, notes and monster grimoires. He was eating a bowl of rice, along with a broth of egg noodle. He looked up briefly to see Emil come inside before returning to his task.

"Hey, Richter. Whatcha doing?"

"Looking at the grimoires and Aster's notes. Some are for his thesis on the relationship between monsters and mana. I don't know how he can have such neat handwriting, it's as if it were typed!"

"Heh. That's Aster for you. So, what do you plan to do today? We know what Aster's doing." Emil indicated Aster's snoring form on the futon with a slight nod of his head. Richter cracked a small smile.

"Well, rest, obviously. But maybe not through sleeping. I'm shocked that the people of Mizuho don't seem to mind half-elves as much as the rest of Tethe'alla."

"They're in hiding themselves; they might identify with you for being shunned by other Tethe'allans."

It was then, talking to Richter, that Emil knew: he was never, could never be, like any of his friends, whether they were human, dwarf, elf, or half-elf. Always and forever he was a part of Ratatosk, always and forever he was Lord of Beasts, administrator of the world's mana, spirit of the first Giant Kharlan Tree. He had said before, he wanted to be human. He still did. But that was a bitter wish that tasted like ash on his tongue, never to be fulfilled.

He was Ratatosk. He was meant for greater things than the lives of meager mortals.

He sure didn't feel like any great cosmic entity. He felt what he looked like—human. He could sense mana, he could communicate with monsters, make pacts with them, he could do various other things that normal people couldn't, no matter the race. His concerns were the state of the world, the mana, the Centurions, the monsters, the Giant Tree which was his host and home. He had heard—or rather, the human Emil had heard—that tree spirits died with the trees. Apparently this was not the case. Was this because of the core that made up his being? Were spirits simply independent of trees, because of the difference of mana? He couldn't tell.

"Perhaps." Richter replied. He didn't scorn it, the people of Mizuho could easily turn him out for being a half-elf, the same as any other human. But they didn't. Like Altessa, they let him be. However, he had to hope that the people of Mizuho wouldn't turn around like Altessa had.

Emil sat at the table, across from Richter.

"Have you ever been to the Temple of Darkness?" Emil had, of course, but he couldn't let either Richter or Aster know that. He made a mental note to feign igorance of the paths of the temple when they arrived. Which, even with the aid of the blue candle, might not be so terribly difficult after all.

"I never got to leave the Academy whenever I wanted to," Richter began, and within Emil's mind Ratatosk let out a mighty groan. Here it began, the ever sorrowful and pitiable tale of a half-elf kept in chains and irons at the laboratory, never allowed to leave, little better than a prisoner, valued only for the unique mind he held as being the child of two races. Mana wasn't just more important to life than water, it _was_ life itself. And yet, humans existed: beings who could neither sense nor use mana.

Deplorable as humans' treatment of half-elves was, Ratatosk expected it from them. And he grew ever tired of hearing Richter complain most vehemently about it, although he was no longer imprisoned in the Academy anyway, so why bother continuing to talk about it? Closure, Emil would reason. Although Richter no longer labored in the Academy, it still didn't feel quite real to him. He had to remind himself, that he was well and truly freed.

It was just more mortal thinking that Ratatosk simply couldn't understand.

* * *

Horrifically, even as he labored on his thesis, Aster found himself less interested with the relationship between monsters and mana, and increasingly fascinated with the subject of the fabled Giant Kharlan Tree: Ratatosk and the Centurions proved it was no mere myth, and elves, who were around longer than humans, would not lie about such a thing. Small wonder elvish culture was so largely characterized by revered trees and forests.

The ship rocked. Sneaking onto it from the designated pier hadn't been overly difficult, and they had the assistance of a certain cadre of Mizuho villagers. To the Fooji continent, where the mountains of the same name resided, within that same rocky range rested the Temple of Darkness. The Temple of Darkness, where the Centurion and Summon Spirit of Darkness resided: Tenebrae and Shadow.

Shadow would not see freedom anytime soon. The Spirits were bound to their altars, whereas for Centurions they were merely places of rest, so Emil had explained. Places of rest, not prisons. The temples had apparently been constructed on top of the Centurion altars, effectively making their own homes prisons.

Suffering from a violent bout of seasickness, Richter groaned in his corner behind a box of Ozette wood.

"How can you think at a time like this? I can barely see straight."

Aster shrugged, he had always had rude good health and possessed a strange imperviousness to a great deal of things that would throw most people off. He shrugged, speaking once more; he hoped to distract Richter from his seasickness. If he were well enough to complain, he wasn't truly very sick was Aster's opinion anyway. "How do you think the Giant Kharlan Tree sustained itself? It sustained the world by giving off infinite mana, but what kept it alive? It must require mana itself …"

Richter snorted. "Sunlight and water, and how do you think plants keep themselves alive? Sunshine, water, and they make their own food. That the Giant Tree made mana is probably all it took." It was a rather obvious conclusion, but Aster had thought since the Giant Tree was unlike other trees, it might sustain itself differently. But there was no denying the sense the obvious conclusion made.

Then there was the matter of the distribution of mana. That had been Ratatosk's charge, from the time the elves came here from Derris-Kharlan. Centurions were made for that, and for that express purpose they made the monsters. They were required because this world originally had no mana, had no life. Like a bacteria sample cultured in a petri dish in the Tethe'alla Royal Academy in Sybak, it had been nutured, and cared for, made to thrive.

Emil, meanwhile, weathered the boat ride better than Richter was, but he looked uneasy, so far away from his monsters. Those were entrusted to the mysterious Katz guild, who promised the delivery of their companions on the Fooji continent as soon as they disembarked. He had to wonder how the Katz did it, but there was no denying the results they produced.

"I wonder how much longer …" How much longer until they might climb the mountains, how much longer until they reached the Temple … reached Tenebrae.

Tenebrae.

The name brought to Emil a strange feeling of comfort and foreboding. The first Centurion that he had ever met, the Centurion that served him best, the Centurion that had been one of his best friends in his previous life—for that life was now forever gone, beyond his reach. In everything Tenebrae had counseled him, supported him.

The depth of his joy to see Tenebrae again after so long was unmistakable. The depth of his shattering realization that it was not _his _Tenebrae was even greater. This was Tenebrae, merely servant of Lord Ratatosk. Merely the Centurion of Darkness. Merely a servant.

Not a friend.

Emil thought he had accepted it, the full scope of the changes between this era and the next, separated by such an insignificant span as two years. Seven hundred and thirty days. In seven hundred and thirty days, so much had changed Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. Changed him. He looked over his shoulder, to Aster, to Richter.

Aster had been long dead.

Richter would have undoubtedly met the same fate.

And Emil, sitting as reluctant guardian of the Ginnungagap, may well have been dead, too.

He had not accepted it. At that moment, he wanted everything back—Tenebrae, Lloyd and his friends, the life he thought he would live as a human—and most of all, Marta. Had Ratatosk known when he assumed a human form, human emotions and attachments would go with it? Or, only a core, had he not known, and done so in ignorance? Merely out of instinct of self-preservation?

But it wasn't just Marta he missed most. Shocked at himself, he missed Richter, the Richter of that time. The Richter that gave him courage. The Richter that taught him how to fight. The Richter that swore they were enemies from the day Emil was "born." It was still so very strange, the Richter that knew him so well, knew him not at all now. Even stranger, to see Richter wholly without Centurion Aqua.

It took Emil a few seconds to realize Solum watched him from the shadow of another stack of cargo. He jumped in place, surprised. The Centurion of Earth, slightly amused, tilted his head to the side, curious.

"_What is it that disturbs my lord so?"_ He asked, reaching within Emil's mind. This troubled him, what the Centurion wished to discuss was not for Aster or Richter's ears. Reluctantly, he answered.

_The past. The future. The excruciating pain of the in between._

"_What do you mean by that?" _Solum inquired. _"You are without a doubt Lord Ratatosk, but you are … different. More. Other. What you are … is impossible; for I was previously bound to Lord Ratatosk. How can you and he both be Lord of Beasts?"_

Of course. Centurions weren't stupid. They may have been deathly quiet save Tenebrae and Aqua, but that did not mean they were fools. Fooling Aster and Richter and Lloyd along with his friends was hard enough … fooling the Centurions who served him was infinitely harder. Would he believe? He had no choice but to believe, as Solum was bound to Emil. But would he accept it? Rebellion was entirely possible, Aqua proved it two years—ago? From now?

Martel, it was so complicated, this business of literally living in the past.

Emil wasn't sure if he should tell Solum everything. But he deserved to know how there were two Lord Ratatosks, and what made this particular Ratatosk different from the one who even now slumbered fitfully beneath the Otherworldly Gate. This entailed nothing more than this tailored explanation: he had been defeated, taken on a human form to survive, and the human remained as a separate mind within a mind, which was Emil. They headed to the Otherworldly Gate, were thrown back in time—and for the sake of the future which could be changed to be brighter, ripped the Centurions from the past Ratatosk and into the service of the new one.

He waited, not with eagerness, for Solum's response.

"_It is not unlike you to think always of the welfare of the world above all else, Lord Ratatosk … or am I talking to Emil right now?" _He gave a mental shrug, went on. _"I am your Centurion and of course will serve you as well as I am able … that is not to say that the other Centurions will abide by this."_

Centurions that proved too willful or rebellious could be destroyed, new ones made. This much Ratatosk made clear. But Emil wanted to avoid that if was possible. For the sake of the world, he might have the right to kill a Centurion—just as he claimed the right to wipe out an entire race. Emil swore not to be like that Ratatosk, and so would do everything in his considerable power to ensure that it did not come to pass.

_I know, Solum, I know, believe me._

Please, let Martel give him someone to believe him, someone to whom he didn't have to lie …

* * *

Opening the shutter of the lantern, Aster lit the blue candle. Instantly, the heavy curtain of darkness in Shadow's lair was lifted, if not completely, at least enough to see by. Emil marveled at the temple's interior; it had not changed much at all from when he knew it. Richter, having been here once before on an expedition, led the way. The monsters trailed behind them, and though Aster could use more experience directing his own, the temple was immensely dangerous, and so only Emil's were traveling with them at this time; the rest were cared for by Katz.

Titan hovered over them like a huge guardian, sniffing the air occasionally, lifting his paws with care, pointed ears swiveling to detect the sounds of danger. The temple's mechanisms were much less complicated than a person would intially expect, especially Aster, who had never visited this particular temple before. Still, it felt like hours upon hours upon hours as they delved their way deeper and deeper into the building, seeking, seeking, seeking …

Monsters seemed to impede them at every corner. These were disposed of, sometimes easily, others with more difficulty. Emil, with pretenses to sensing Tenebrae's core because of his bond with Ratatosk, at last found the section of wall behind which the Centurion's altar rested. Borrowing the Sorcerer's Ring from Aster, he found the appropriate mechanism, and the door fell away.

There was the bridge, as he remembered it, stretching off, lined with glowing red crystals, into an infinite dark beyond, like the depths of the night sky, only absent of moon and stars. Richter led the way, and for a moment, bitter memory lingered in Emil's mouth, slathered all over his tongue, a kind of hazy mist clouding his eyes. How the Richter of two years ago—from now—had managed to reach Tenebrae first, Emil would never know. As this Richter approached the altar, he saw that Richter, hands held out for the bud-shaped crystal that was Tenebrae's core, the blur of blue that was Aqua hovering beside his ear as she always did. The Centurion supported Richter in everything.

Even this. Even the murder of her own kin.

All for Master Richter.

For a moment, Emil stood still as a statue. He watched, with morbid fascination, as Richter once more stood at the altar, admiring Tenebrae's core. Any second, he expected the red haired half-elf to take up his axe, and smash the core against the cold stone construct. He would turn, and avow Emil dead if he continued to serve Ratatosk as his Knight. Ratatosk's ingratiated laughter, half crazed with a strange delight, as he attacked Richter. Dumb, utter shock, as the half elf managed to turn the attack back at him.

Marta, darting in front of him. Marta, taking the wound for herself.

Marta. Screaming.

But the bridge they stood upon did not collapse. Aster, who was without a doubt alive, stood at Richter's side, examining this core with a scholarly curiosity and fascination. They both turned, to look at Emil who still stood dumbstruck. They had green eyes, the both of them, although Aster's, whose eyes mirrored Emil's own, were the green of the leaves on a springtime tree. Richter's were darker, and at times, looked more like venom. Their voices echoed in unison, in a repeating sound that threatened to cave Emil's skull in.

"Emil? Are you okay?"

"Emil?"

Emil walked, put one foot before the other, made himself go forward. He had to rip Tenebrae away from the Ratatosk of this time, bring him into his own fold. The others did not have Ratatosk's protection—Aster might be able to try it, but an unhatched core, it was too risky.

As Emil hatched Tenebrae's core, Aster observed the clashes of complex, deep emotions in his face. So strange, to see his own face twist and contort so. Among the emotions he identified a handful of them: frustration, desperation, inexplicable longing for _something_ that could not or would not be named, and most of all, fear. Aster felt his brow quirk. Wasn't this Emil's idea? Aster had begun the journey, but Emil had decided its purpose. Wasn't this, regaining the Centurions' cores, awakening Ratatosk, wasn't this exactly what he said he wanted to do?

Tenebrae's core hatching, glowing, and a swath of darkness clothed the jewel as the Centurion manifested. Awakened, brought to Ratatosk's will. There was the strangest look on Emil's face as he looked on to the Centurion of Darkness.

The second Centurion they had awakened. Six more to be found, six more to be awakened, to be bent to his will or crushed.

Emil was only acutely aware of Richter and Aster staring at him, at the wildfire expressions on his face. His attention was focused on Tenebrae, who was confused, rather like Solum was, but faced with someone who could not be anyone other than Lord Ratatosk, gave his allegiance.

_Are you sure?_ Emil found himself asking. He knew how loyal Tenebrae was.

He was answered: _"I exist to serve Lord Ratatosk, and you are Lord Ratatosk. What more could be said?"_

Truth, all of it. And yet so unlike the Tenebrae he knew. He kept waiting for the Centurion to crack a joke. None came.

All the relationships he had possessed in his previous life, would have to be sought, found again, and built from the ground up.

It hurt, Martel, it hurt, more than anything he had ever experienced.

* * *

"You should talk to him." Aster said, dropping a few logs into the heap of firewood that would become their campfire for the night. Richter's axe was certainly handy for a great deal of things. Richter, who was fumbling with matches—never one to squander resources, even magic—looked up, slightly annoyed. Usually not a hair was out of place, tonight, almost every single strand _was_ out of place.

"He looked like he wanted to be alone, I won't interfere with that."

Aster braced his hands on his knees, bending at the waist to look into Richter's face. "Do you really think that will help him, being alone? He was alone from the moment he came to Tethe'alla through the Otherworldly Gate. You know what that's like, being so alone." He finished with a sigh. "I really hate seeing Emil depressed like this. It's not like him."

Richter handed Aster the packet of matches. "Fine, but I promise nothing. I thought he would be overjoyed we finally got another Centurion." He stood, leaving the campsite, seeking Aster's twin in image if not blood.

Emil was standing by Titan, absentmindedly petting the huge ice wolf. The look in his eyes Richter had seen in his own mirror all too well. Deepest loneliest, searing, agonizing pain, paralyzing fear. Whatever had happened between Mizuho, the Temple of Darkness and now had struck him deeply. But without knowing what it was, Richter could not begin to hope to even see where the damage began, and where it ended. This was much harder than healing a broken wrist, and Richter could not even do that much.

Bah, this was what Aster wanted, so for Emil to feel better, so for Richter to get more social interaction with someone else besides him, even though Emil looked exactly like him. But none who knew them could ever mistake the two for one another, they were too different in their behaviors, their habits, their words. He cleared his throat.

"Emil? Are you okay?"

Knees quivered, Richter thought with alarm for a moment that Emil would collapse. But he did not. He gave a stiff nod.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

The response was not there, it had no heart. Richter circled around, wondering if he should face him … but maybe it was easier if Emil could not see him. "You sure? You looked really pale, in the temple and you look white as porcelain now." White as porcelain, and just as fragile. His prowess in battle could not be denied. His strength of will was another matter entirely.

_Maybe he _is _mad. _Richter reflected on the time he knew Emil Castagnier. _He tells me when we first meet that I would flood the world with demons, that we were enemies. He still says things that don't make sense to us, when he thinks we're not listening._

The name of the Centurion they had claimed came to him abruptly. Tenebrae. Tenebrae, where had he heard that before … the old elvish word for 'shadow,' certainly, but there was this feeling that nagged at him … he shook it off, it can't be that important. For now he had to make sure Emil was well and truly all right.

"Fine." Emil still spoke, albeit haltingly. "It's just … Tenebrae … I suppose I can't expect him to, right away … he doesn't trust me." Richter quirked a brow at that.

"But aren't you Ratatosk's Knight? Shouldn't he trust you?"

A blond head, bowed to hide the face in Titan's black and blue fur. "I'm his Knight. I'm not Ratatosk himself." Emil thought he would lose his mind in all the half-truths that he might very well soon start believing himself. Tenebrae did not trust him. He had made it clear in the Temple of Darkness.

"_You are Lord Ratatosk, and so I serve you in all things, but I do not trust you. There can be no false Lord of Beasts, and so both you and my former master are Ratatosk … I will serve, I will obey, but forgive my presumption, my trust you will have to earn."_

Tenebrae couldn't very well refuse to be bound into his service. If he did, Emil had no doubt that this Ratatosk would see him destroyed. To him, Centurions were nothing but pawns, vessels he created to carry forth his will. In a way that was true. But to Emil, they were more than that. Tenebrae was, had been, his best friend. To have that ripped away from him even as he ripped the Centurion from the past Ratatosk was more painful than he would admit.

Richter shrugged, he didn't see the cause for distress. "Then earn his trust. At the least, you have me, Aster, and Solum, isn't that enough for now? I know you're no longer in Sylvarant, all your friends and family are there … but you do have us."

And that was no small thing. Emil found his hurts eased, somewhat, as he realized the truth of Richter's words. He did have them. Aster, who had supported him from the day he was brought to the Imperial Research Academy. Richter, who had grown to trust and perhaps even like him. Solum, who never doubted his authority, and spoke to him as friend, even as the Tenebrae of the future-past had. At last, Emil began to feel better, even haunted by his memories, bogged down as if he tread through quicksand, threatening to suffocate in their bittersweet images.

"I … thank you, Richter. I can't do this without them. Without you."

Yes, Richter could see that much was plain. It wasn't as if Emil were incompetent, but one man could not accomplish everything. But he was infinitely more surprised when Emil turned around, approached him, and gave him a quick hug. Only Aster had ever dared such close contact.

"Courage, after all," Emil continued with the ghost of a smile, "is the magic that turns dreams to reality."


End file.
